Harry Potter, the ArchMagus
by the DragonBard
Summary: AU. After an incident with Dudley and his gang, Harry discovers his magical abilities. However, there is no one to teach him how to wield his magic. So, with only fantasy books to guide him, Harry must forge himself into the wizard he is meant to be.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus.

by

the DragonBard

I'm doing a similar idea for this with Ranma 1/2, except I'm using martial instead of magical arts for Ranma.

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copywrite holders and/or creators. Especially any characters from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

Prologue:

Young Harry Potter stood on the roof of his school, looking around.

"What am I doing up here?" He asked, though there was no one around to answer him.

Harry sat down, and began to think.

"Last thing I remember, Dudley's gang was chasing me, and I ran away from them. I remember... I knew they were going to beat me up again, even worse than the last time. I was scared, I wanted to be somewhere else... anywhere else... Someplace they could never get me... like the... school... roof." Harry's voice trailed off, as his eyes got large.

"I wanted to be somewhere like the school roof, and I sent myself to the roof!" He whispered in astonishment. "But HOW?"

There was only one thing that young Harry could think of that might have allow him to do something like that. Something that, according to the loud denunciations by Vernon and Petunia Dursley, didn't exist. Though, with the situation he was in, Harry figured it was obvious they were wrong.

"Magic." Harry invoked the word, as if the word itself held power. Which it did to a young boy trapped in an almost hellish home. "I can do magic!"

"What should I do? What can I do?" Harry asked himself excitedly.

Unfortunately, Harry's attempts to experiment were thwarted when he heard the noise from the playground fading. Harry glanced over the edge of the roof, and noticed that the kids were gathering to go back in from recess.

"Oh no! I've got to get back down!" Harry began to panic.

"Okay, calm down." He told himself. "Just try and do what got you up here in the first place."

Harry closed his eyes, and concentrated.

"I want to be back on the ground. I 'need' to be back on the ground." Harry repeated the mantra to himself over, and over again, trying to will himself back down.

"Potter!"

Harry opened his eyes at the cry, and found himself standing in front of his homeroom teacher.

"What are you doing, just standing here?" Mrs Hendricks was a grandmotherly looking old woman, who had a less than grandmotherly personality.

"Er-I... "

"Never mind!" Mrs Hendricks grabbed Harry's arm. "Recess ended five minutes ago, you should be back in classes."

The rest of the day went by quickly for Harry. Even though he was severely reprimanded by the teachers, and sent to his closet without dinner by his Aunt Petunia, it didn't hurt his mood. He, Harry James Potter, could do magic!

The days past in a blur for Harry, as he began to experiment with his new found power. He briefly considered telling the Durselys about his magic, but quickly squelched that idea. He had seen Petunia and Vernon's reactions whenever there was something mentioned in the paper about people who practiced magic, like the witches and druids. Honestly, if they found out he could do real magic, Harry had little doubt that the Drusleys would kick him out on the street.

Harry also considered talking to some of the people mentioned in the news, but figured that they wouldn't want to talk to a little boy about it. Plus, a little talk with his school librarian (one of the few members of the school faculty that seemed to like Harry) convinced him that they didn't work magic like he did. Most of their magic seemed to be just like going to a strange church, and praying for something to happen. Wereas, for Harry, it was all a matter of concentration, need, and will.

The school librarian, Mr Caufmann, loaned Harry an old paperback copy of the Hobbit. Harry had to be careful about letting the Durselys see it, as they would have likely thrown the book away. Fortunately, Harry had figured out how to make objects invisible for a time, though Harry discovered that he could still see them. It made borrowing 'un-Dursley' books (though Harry doubted that there was really such thing as a book that 'was' Dursley) from the library, and Mr Caufmann, much easier.

Looking back, Harry would say that reading the 'Lord of the Rings' books, and thereby being introduced to fantasy literature, was probably the second great milestone of his life with the Dursley family.

Harry found himself enjoying the book, and quickly devoured it. When he brought the finished book back to Mr Caufmann, he enquired what happened after, and Mr Caufmann happily loaned him the sequel; the first book in the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy, 'Fellowship of the Ring,' quickly followed by the next book in the series, the 'Two Towers.' Harry breezed through these even faster than the first, and was rewarded with 'Return of the King.'

After 'Return of the King,' was the 'Chronicles of Narnia,' the 'Riftwar' series, 'Dune,' the 'Star Wars' novels, and others. Harry read them all.

Mr Caufmann's impact on his life, however, was not limited to just introducing Harry to fantasy, however. It all started one afternoon, just after school had let out.

Harry was talking to Mr Caufmann, when a boy, a few years older than Harry, entered the library.

"Hey Dad." The boy said, swinging his bookbag onto one of the tables. It looked like he was about to say something else, when he suddenly noticed Harry.

"Oops. Sorry. Didn't realise anyone else was here." He laughed.

Mr Caufmann shook his head at the boy, and turned to Harry.

"Harry, as you can probably tell, this is my son, Chad." Harry did indeed notice a number of similarities between the two.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Mr Caufmann asked. "I thought you were going to Jeremy's house for a dungeon crawl."

Chad shrugged. "Jeremy's sick with the flu, so had to cancel at the last minute. Too bad, it was supposed to be my turn to DM, and I had a killer of a campaign planned."

Harry was a bit confused by the conversation, which Chad must of noticed, because he chuckled.

"Some friends of mine, and I, like to play RPGs a lot. RPG means Role-Playing Games." Chad explained. "It's a lot like playing pretend, but with rules and stuff, so that you can keep things fair. Most RPGs are set in fantasy worlds, with wizards, elves, fighters, evil monsters and so on. You basically get together, each of you playing a character with certain skills, and try to kill monsters and get treasure to become more powerful in the game.

"Most of the time, the adventures are set in dungeons, so a gaming session gets called a dungeon crawl."

Harry nodded, adsorbing the information.

"What's a DM?" He asked.

This time, Mr Caufmann answered. "DM stands for Dungeon Master. He's basically the guy who tells the others what's happening, and makes sure that everyone follows the rules."

"Dad introduced me to the game a few years back." Chad said.

Mr Caufman chuckled. "Well, it was pretty popular during my college days." He turned to Harry. "If you're interested, I've got an old players handbook you can borrow. It's got alot of the rules and such for playing the game. Why don't I bring it with me tomorrow, and if you have any questions, just let me know."

Harry smiled, and nodded in agreement. This RPG stuff certainly sounded interesting.

Sorry, I know that the intro is a lot like that of Harem of Honeys, however, I plead necesity. That's the only time I know of when Harry's accidental magic was something major enough for him to realise 'hey, that's impossible.' Well, that and the disappearing glass, but the glass happens too late to do much good.

I informed Szordara about the simularities, but I have yet to hear back from her (or him)

Hopefully, you'll find that, while the openings are similar, the rest of the story, is NOT.

Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus.

by

the DragonBard

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copywrite holders and/or creators. Especially any characters from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

Chapter 1

If a visitor were to pass through Privet Drive, they might think it looked quaint, or picturesque. Not beautiful, or lavish, but nice, in a fairly normal sort of way, and that's the way several of the residents prefered things. Especially three of the residents of 4 Privet Drive (actually, one of those three didn't care about being normal, he just agreed with his parents to get his own way)

The fourth resident, Harry James Potter, didn't care much about normal, one way or the other. Both because he knew that, he himself wasn't normal, and suspected that his aunt and uncle, no matter what they claimed, weren't normal either. At least he 'hoped' they weren't normal, or his future didn't look all that good.

You see, Harry was a wizard. Or was he a sorcerer? Perhaps a mage? Maybe even a Jedi (though he somehow doubted it.) It was hard to say, as he had yet to knowingly encounter another magic-user since he had discovered his powers, so he didn't know any of the terminology that real magic-users used. Anyway, to put it simply, Harry could work magic. He wasn't great at it, he would admit if asked, as he was self-taught, and had to practice in secret. From the few times his aunt and uncle had found out about his 'accidental' magic use, he really didn't want to see what would happen if they caught him doing it on purpose, and worse, 'succeeding.'

School had let out for the summer, trapping Harry indoors with his cousin, Dudley, and his gang, and away from Harry's own friends. Fortunately, they had been wary of actually confronting Harry for the last couple of years. Somehow, they weren't sure how or why, everytime they tried to do something to him, or when he was around, things seemed to happen. Sometimes it would be that they would begin slipping around like they were on sheer ice. Other times, they found themselves dizzy, and barely able to stand. There had even been times where he would just stare at them, and they would find themselves turning around and leaving their target alone, with no idea why.

Harry didn't mind the summers that much, though it forced him to be around his 'family' and away from his friends too much for his taste. He simply spent as much time as he could in his closet-room, going over his spellbooks, and reading his fantasy and science fiction books.

Harry's spellbooks were, in fact, just a bunch of spiralbound notebooks with several drawings and notes in them. Harry had started them soon after discovering his mage gift, and they were filled with his notes about how he achieved his magical effects, and working out spells he could use, and how he might make them work.

Most, if not all, of Harry's ideas for spells and magical items, came from the fantasy & science fiction books he read. He had first started reading fantasy after being loaned some books by his primary school librarian, and later got into RPGing (Role-Playing Games) by the librarian's son, Chad.

Harry enjoyed the D&D game, though he really couldn't play much, what with the Dursleys and all. Though he did talk with Chad about the game a lot. He even, eventually, was able to make friend with Chad's RPG group.

Most of the group were, like Chad, older than Harry, but quickly developed a liking for the kid, and tended to think of him as a little brother.

It was a few months later, after getting to know Chad, that Harry hit the fantasy motherload. He had been taking out the trash, after Dudley whined his way out of it, when he saw a neighbor doing the same, carrying a few large boxes. Curious, Harry had looked inside, and found several dozen books. He recognised some of the titles as ones he had borrowed from Mr Caufmann, and there were others that appeared to be of the same genre. There were even what looked to be RPG books!

As quickly as he could, Harry shrank all the boxes, using a hastily thought up spell, and hid them under his shirt. For once he was thankful that he was forced to wear his cousin's extremely over sized hand-me-downs, as it made it much easier to conceal the small boxes. Later that night, Harry restored one of the boxes, and began to read about the adventures of King Belgarion and his ancestor, Belgarath the Sorcerer.

As time passed, Harry went through all the books, laughing at the silliness of the Myth-Adventures crew, crying at the pain of Herald-Mage Vanyel, respecting the courage of the friends Dragonlord Tomas, and the archmage Pug, and several more. He also read of the worlds of Dunegons & Dragons, the Rifts Megaverse, and other worlds of magic.

It was all fascinating to Harry, and very different from the very dull 'normal' life of the Dursleys. Plus, they had wizards casting spells, which Harry quickly jotted down in his notebooks, trying to figure out how to do the same thing.

It was an otherwise normal day in July when the third great mile-stone of Harry's time with the Dursleys occured, and his life changed forever. He had woken up that morning, and discovered his Aunt Petunia dyeing some of Dudley's old cast-offs grey, so that they wouldn't have to pay for a uniform for him (the Dursely's never spent any money on Harry that they didn't absolutely have to).

"It'll look just like everyone else's when I'm finished." Petunia told him.

Yeah, if everyone else is wearing an elephent skin. Harry thought to himself, but decided against arguing, as it wouldn't do him any good. Never did, never would.

Unless, of course, he cast some kind of mind control spell, but Harry felt ugly clothing wasn't worth altering a person's mind.

One of Chad's friends had mentioned something to Harry a while ago, and it was something that had stuck with Harry; 'with great power, comes great responsibility.' That saying was one of the primary tenants that Harry tried to live his life by.

Harry vaguely considered working out a spell to at least make the clothing less hideous, but decided it would just get him in more trouble with his aunt and uncle. 'Not that there's much that 'wouldn't' get me in trouble, but I at least want to try and avoid problems.' Harry thought to himself. Harry had long ago figured out that he was given Dudley's old clothes for two reasons. One, it allowed the Dursleys to spend less money on him, and second, it was just another way for them to belittle him.

Harry and the Dursleys had all just sat down to eat, when they heard the mail slot click, and the letters flop on the door.

"Mail's here." Vernon Dursley noted from behind his paper. "Go get it Dudley."

Dudley quickly whinned to his father, forcing Harry to get the mail.

With his back to his 'family,' Harry rolled his eyes. 'Glad it's Aunt Petunia I'm related to. I would hate to see what I'd be like if I had any genetics from 'him.''

Harry quickly grabbed the mail, and sorted through it, turning back to the kitchen, when he came across a very strange letter. It was addressed to 'him,' Harry Potter, and the address included the closet! The fact that it had been written in a strange green ink was easily overlooked.

Harry was frozen in shock for a few moments. No one besides himself and the Dursleys knew about where he slept. Vernon and Petunia had been very vehenoment about not revealing it to anyone, not even those few friends he had made at school. The ones that Dudley hadn't been able to scare off with his bullying.

Harry was just about to open his letter, when Dudley, curious about what was taking Harry so long, came into the room, and grabbed the letter from his hand.

"Mum, Dad, someone sent the Freak a wierd letter." Dudley called out.

If Harry hadn't known any better, he would have thought that his aunt and uncle had teleported themselves into the room, they moved so fast.

Vernon grabbed the letter from Dudley's hand, ignoring the minature behemoth's sqwauck of surprise, and and the two huddled together away from the boys, quickly reading over the letter.

Harry was rather indignant. The first time he ever got a letter of his own, and Vernon had to steal it from him!

Harry hated to do it, but something inside was telling him that he 'had' to get that letter! Harry began a calming exercise he had read in one of his books, the Flame and the Void, and cleared his mind of all thoughts and emotions. He then focused his will on Vernon and Petunia, and spoke in what he called 'the Voice.'

"You will give me the letter." Harry commanded the two, airily waving his hand at them.

"We will give you the letter." Vernon said, angrily, and handed the letter over.

"You have burned the letter." Harry told them.

"We have burned the letter." The pair repeated.

"I never got to read it." Harry told them, which they agreed with. Harry quickly stuffed the letter under his shirt, and went into his closet.

It was something that Harry called the Jedi Mind Trick, which allowed him to manipulate people's minds and actions, to a certain extent. From what he could tell, the effects were rather short. You could give a person orders, especially if they were weak-willed, and they would obey. Unfortunately, strong emotions tended to degrade the effectiveness, and orders couldn't be long term. You could tell a person to do something, but except for altering recent memories, anything that lasted more than a few moments, needed constant reinforcement.

When he was first developing his newly discovered skills and powers, Harry had tried to make Vernon and Petunia treat him nicely. It was a failure. The pair had reverted to their normal behavior within the hour. The best Harry had been able to do, was prevent them from going to excess in punishing him (which he admitted he sometimes deserved) and to protect the little kids from Dudley's bullying ways.

Harry figured that there were probably ways to permanently alter a person's behavior, but he didn't want to really try them. Mind altering spells, especially ones that altered long-term behavior were too much like bullying someone, in Harry's opinion. However, he understood that there were times when it needed to be done, such as when he used it to stop Dudley's gang from beating up some kids. He was still reluctant to use it, though.

'Hope this letter is as important as I think it is,' Harry thought to himself. 'Otherwise, I just screwed around with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's mind for no reason.

Harry opened the letter, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Jackpot!" He whispered.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necesary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

If there had been enough room in the closet, Harry would have started to jump around screaming at the top of his lungs in joy. He was going to magic school!

Suddenly, Harry frowned.  
"How in the world am I supposed to contact them?" He asked himself. "What do they mean, 'we await your owl?'"

Harry started grumbling to himself, as he began to search through his books, and spellbooks, for any spell that might allow him to communicate with either 'Albus Dumbledore' or 'Minerva McGonagall.' Unfortunately, long-range communication spells didn't seem to be a high priority in most magical worlds. There were a few, but most of them seemed to requiring actually having met the person, or had too short a range.

Harry stopped in his search, as a thought suddenly occured to him.

"Wait a second. They got scared after reading the letter. I don't think they even noticed it was addressed to my closet, so why would they be scared?" He asked himself.

That instant, several things that had confused Harry, suddenly clicked.

"They knew." He whispered. "THEY KNEW! All this time I wondered how they could blame me for all those 'freaky things' when they didn't believe in magic, but they knew!"

For a minute, Harry considered using some of his untested and experimental spells on the Dursleys.

"Polymorph Other, yeah, that would be good, turn them into frogs, or maybe rats. Maybe Fireball... no, that would blow up the house. How about Levitation? I could trap them on the ceiling."

Harry continued ranting for a while, but finally calmed down, though he was still furious at the Dursleys. He idily considered working out a Charm spell, and using it on his aunt and uncle to find out the truth, but decided against it, much for the same reasons that he never developed one to make them treat him like Dudley. If they weren't willing to do it of their own free will, then it wasn't worth it.

"However, a Divination spell to find out what's going on... 'that' is another kettle of fish entirely." Harry said with a smile.

Unfortunately, Harry was unable to put his plan of working out a Divination spell into motion, as that evening, when Vernon came home, he called Harry out of his closet.

Vernon grinned at Harry, though it looked rather painful.

"Boy, er, Harry, I've been thinking, and this closet is getting a bit small for you. So, your Aunt Petunia and I, have decided to move you into Dudley's second bedroom."

"WHAT?" Dudley wailed. "But I 'need' that room! You can't give it to him!"

Harry mentally shrugged, and gathered together his things to move them to his new room. Thankfully, there was so much junk that Dudley had broken in there, that Harry would be able to hide his magical stuff much more easily. However, he still kept most of it under a concealment spell, so that the Dursleys wouldn't notice.

Vernon had bought a bunch of second-hand furniture for the room. It was pretty obvious that it was the cheapest the man could buy.

With Harry settled into his new room, the Dursleys seemed to relax a little.

Maybe they think that whoever wrote my letter is keeping an eye on them, and will think that they're treating me right. Harry thought to himself, rolling his eyes at their stupidity.

The days passed quickly for Harry, as he tried working out a spell to contact Headmaster Dumbledore, or Deputy-Headmaster McGonagall. Unfortunately, Harry didn't believe that a simple name would be enough, and whether it was simply his lack of belief, or his lack of skill, he was quickly proven correct.

"BLAST AND BLOODY HELL!" Harry growled out as his tenth attempt at divining anything about Albus Dumbledore collapsed. "I almost had it that time! I'm sure of it!"

Before the spell had failed, Harry had been able to see a man, whom he was certain was Dumbledore. However, it had only lasted a brief second, but that was enough time for Harry to notice a few things about him.

Dumbledore was pretty much the poster child for the stereotypical fairy tale wizard, with long silver hair and beard, robes, and such.

Harry sighed in frustration.

"Just what am I doing wrong here? What am I missing?" He asked himself, as he started cleaning up the remains of his latest failed diviniation attempt.

Most of the time, when working magic, Harry simply tended to visualise what he wanted, and then will it to happen. For something more complex, such as the divination spell, he decided that he needed something a bite more. He had used an old mirror of Petunia's from an empty compact, and a piece of paper with the words ALBUS DUMBLEDORE written on them. Harry had briefly considered using his letter, but finally decided it was too risky.

"Hmm, maybe I'm doing the spell right, but he's just got some kind of protection of scrying ward up." Harry muttered. "That's possible."

While straightening up,Harry just happened to glance over at his calender, when he noticed something.

"It's almost my birthday." Unlike most children who enjoyed their birthdays, Harry's was always a melancholy time for him. All he ever got from the Dursleys were yells, and junk. His friends might have gotten him something, but they didn't know when his birthday was, and they never saw him during it. After all, the Dursley's would 'never' allow someone who willingly associated with Harry Potter in their house.

Watching the clock, Harry softely counted down the seconds until midnight.

Three, two, one.

Midnight.

At the instant the clock struck midnight, there was a great pounding that echoed throughout the house. Harry could hear Vernon and Petunia getting up, yelling that they were coming, and complaining about people who were so rude as to knock on a door in the middle of the night.

As soon as he knew that the two were downstairs, Harry cast a quick Knock spell on his door, and silently crept to the stairs to find out what was going on.

* * *

The Jedi Mind Trick is, of course, from the 'Star Wars' series, by George Lucas. The Voice, is a trick from the Dune series, made famous by Frank Herbert. Harry doesn't really 'use' the Voice, but he is aware of it. He's trying to integrate the two together. The Knock spell is from the 'Dungeons & Dragons' RPG. It's simply used to unlock doors that have been magically or mechanically sealed.

Just to let you know, Harry doesn't have much in the way of combat spells, and most of his other spells are pretty low level. Basically think Cantrips and 1st-3rd level spells. He's got ideas for the bigger stuff, but he simply hasn't had the time, or a place to practice them.

Hopefully, Harry's problems with the divination spell will show him to be powerful, but not a Super!Harry... at least not yet ;)

Though, Harry 'is' supposed to be Voldie's 'equal' so that means he should be much more powerful than the average wizard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus**

**by**

**the DragonBard**

* * *

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copywrite holders and/or creators. Especially any characters from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Vernon Dursley was a large man, as anyone who saw him would agree, so it was a bit of a surprise for Harry Potter, when he saw a man in the entryway of the Dursley home, who was larger than Vernon by quite a bit, both in girth, and size. However, unlike Vernon, whose size was mostly fat, the stranger looked like he was shaped normally, just rather large.

The stranger was a giant of a man, with shaggy hair and beard that made even Harry's wild locks seem tame. It was obvious that, from the size alone, the strange man held a great deal of strength in his arms. However, Harry got the sense that he was a very solid, dependable sort, with a good, loyal heart.

Ever since he had discovered his magic, Harry had been learning how to sense things about people and objects. Unfortunately, he still needed a great deal of work on the skill. He could sometimes get a general vibe off of individuals, but it was a hit and miss thing.

Vernon and Petunia were yelling at the top of their lungs, making almost as much noise as the loud knocking had, as the giant walked further into the house, looking around. The giant seemed to ignore them, waving a pink parasol in thought. It was at that moment he noticed Harry, who was slowly moving down the stairs.

"An' here's Harry." The giant said, breaking into a smile. "Ain't seen ya' since you were a babe, just after yer parents died."

The giant seemed to get a bit misty eyed at that, and wipped his eyes with a sleave.

"Spittin' image of yer dad, but got'cha mothers eyes."

Vernon went red in the face, while Petunia just paled.

"I demand you get out of my house, this instant!" He screamed.

"Aw, shut it, Dursley." The giant said, with a glance at Vernon.

It was all Harry could do to keep from breaking out laughing. It wasn't often that Vernon Dursley had to deal with someone whom he couldn't bully, or kiss up to, and Harry was glad he got to see it.

Harry initiated the Flame and the Void, to keep any of his mirth from showing on his face, and just watched.

"Well, happy birthday Harry, got somethin' for ya."

The giant reached into his large coat, and pulled out a fancy cake box, slightly squished, and handed it to Harry. Harry carefully opened it, to find a large chocolate cake, with _'Happy Birthday Harry'_ in green icing. If Harry hadn't been within the Void, it might have been enough to make him cry. Instead, he simply looked up at the smiling face of the giant.

"Excuse me, but might I ask who you are?"

The giant shook his head, and frowned.

"Now, where's me manners?" He asked himself. "The name's Rubeus Hagrid, just call me Hagrid. Keeper of the Keys and the Grounds at Hogwarts."

Hagrid shook Harry's hand, almost his entire body in fact. Harry didn't notice, as he had latched onto the name Hogwarts.

_'He's from Hogwarts!'_ He thought to himself, outside the Void. _'This means I can finally contact them! I can go to school there!'_

Thoughts on how to talk to Hagrid about going to Hogwarts skimmed at the edge of the Void, and it was all Harry could do to keep it from collapsing on him.

The Flame and the Void was a means of calming and focusing ones self. The person would imagine a burning flame, and then feed it with their thoughts and feelings. With every piece added, the flame would grow larger, and hotter, until finally, when there was nothing left, the flames themselves would vanish, leaving nothing but the Void. It was very useful, because not only did it allow a person to calm themselves, but it helped to keep distractions to a minimum, giving one unbelievable focus. It also magnified awareness to a point you could almost see the future. Unfortunately, when you were first developing the skill, it was very easy to disturb, and loose the Void. It required several repititions, and long term use of the skill before you could hold it at all times.

Harry had yet to achieve that point.

The Void quickly collapsed on Harry. He briefly considered reforming it, but decided against it.

Hagrid went back into the kitchen, and after a bit of puttering around, along with apparently some help from his pink parasol, quickly had some breakfast cooked up. Petunia moaned about a monster destroying her kitchen, while Vernon tried to sooth her. Dudley tried to snitch one of the sausages, but Vernon stopped him.

"Don't eat anything that freak gives you." He told his son.

"Boy's fat enough as is." Hagrid remarked. Petunia and Vernon gasped in outrage as Hagrid then turned to Harry, who was happily eating the sausage Hagrid had given him.

"Now, like I said, I'm from Hogwarts. Course, you'll be knowin' all about Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head. "Not really, I just know it's a school for wizardry and witchcraft." Harry got a curious look on his face. "Is there any real difference between the two?"

Hagrid looked confused, while Petunia and Vernon were shocked.

"Uh, yeah. Witches do one, wizards the other." Hagrid said, confusedly.

Harry sighed. "What I mean is, is there a difference in the kind of magic that they use, or the way they do it?" _'I get the feeling that I should wait and ask these kinds of questions when I get to the school.'_

It took a few questions, but Harry finally was able to get the right answer. It appeared that the only difference between witchcraft and wizardry, was the gender of the user.

_'Rather stupid, if you ask me.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'It's like having two words for cooking, if the chef was a boy or a girl.'_

Vernon, who had been turning a most unbecoming shade of puce, started yelling.

"NO! We refuse! I will not pay for him to go to that place! I don't know how he learned about it, but when we took him in, we decided we were going to put a stop to that... _freakishness_ once and for all!"

Hagrid glared at Vernon and Petunia, but whatever he might have said was cut off by Harry.

"So, you _'did'_ know." Harry said, as cold as a glacier. "I often wondered if you knew about my magical abilities, but always told myself that it would have been impossible for you to know. It wasn't until I got my letter that I really believed it.

"Is that why you've always treated me like you have? Like I was something that wasn't worth your time?" Harry asked.

Petunia glared in disgust at her nephew.

"_'Knew?'_ Of course we knew!" She shrieked. "How could we not, with my drafted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter like yours, but our parents didn't do the sensible thing and burn it, like we did yours. Then, it was off to that - that _'school'_ - and came home with her pockets full of frog spawn, and turning tea cups into vermin. I was the only one who saw her for the freak she was, but our mother and father were always _'Lily this'_ and _'Lily that'_ they were proud of having a..." Petunia's face became even more disgusted, and she spat out the word as if even having it in her mouth was contaminate her. "_'Witch'_ in the family."

Petunia ranted, the bile continuing to flow from her mouth.

"Then, she met that Potter at that school, got married and had you! I knew you were just as strange, as abnormal she was. She then has the gall to get blown up, and stick you with us!"

Harry clenched his jaw, as his hands tightend into white knuckled fists. The rage and disgust he felt at the pair was pushing his self control to its limits. He tried to call the flame, to wrap himself in the Void, for just a moment, to regain control, but it wouldn't come. The rage and pain were too great.

"So, my parents dying in a car crash was a lie too?" He asked, barely keeping it from a snarl.

This set off Hagrid, who began yelling about Harry not knowing his own story, and how no car crash could have killed off his parents.

Harry grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Don't, they're not worth the bother." Harry said.

This enraged the Dursleys, but a glare from both Hagrid, and (surprisingly) Harry, kept them quiet.

"Hagrid, can you tell me the truth about what happened to my parents?"

Hagrid turned to Harry, and calmed down.

"I don't know if I'm the right person for it... Professor Dumbledore said there might be trouble, that ya might not know everything ya should... but I can't let you go to Hogwarts an' not know yer own story." Hagrid sighed, and then glared at the Dursleys.

Hagrid began to explain about how several years ago, a very dark and evil wizard, named Voldemort, rose to power, murdering anyone who defied him. He was so feared, that no one would willingly say his name, for fear of attracting his attention. They simply called him _'You-Know-Who.'_ He told how, only Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was able to truly stand against Voldemort. Finally, Hagrid told of the night that Voldemort's power was finally broken, and how Harry became known as _'the Boy-Who-Lived.'_

"Took ya' out of the house meself." Hagrid said sadly, then glared at the Dursleys. "Had ta bring ya' to this lot, unfortunately."

At this point, Harry was rather conflicted. On one hand, Hagrid seemed like a nice enough fellow, and really didn't seem to like the Dursley family (always a good point). On the other hand, he was the person who brought him to this prison.

Before he could ask any questions, Vernon broke into the conversation, insulting Harry and his parents. Hagrid angrily threatend him, cowing Vernon into silence.

Harry briefly considered asking about why Dumbledore wanted him to live with the Dursleys, but changed his mind. _'That's a question that Dumbledore himself will have to answer.'_

"What happened to Vol..." Harry stopped, seeing Hagrid flinch at the name. "Sorry, You-Know-Who, what happened to him?"

Hagrid shrugged. "Don't rightly know. Some people think he died. Load of codswallop, ifn' you ask me. Don't think there were enough human left in 'im to die like that. Others think he's just run away, biddin his time. Don't believe it meself. Lots of people on our side came out of trances that he done put on 'em. Wouldn't of done that if he was coming back, would they.

"Most of us reckon that he's still around, but broken, powerless. Too weak to carry on 'cause of something about you. I don't know what it is - no one rightly knows - but something about you sure stumped him."

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect burning in his eyes. Harry smiled at him.

Vernon decided to break in at that moment.

"We've told you, the boy is going to Stonewall High, and he's going to like it. I've read those letters, and we are not going to pay for any of those foolish things they say he needs." Vernon grinned in triumph. He'd spent as little as he possibly could on the boy, after all, everything that went to him was that much less that he could give to his boy Dudley. It didn't matter that the boy only wore clothes Dudley had outgrown, or made unfit to wear, and he slept in the cupboard for most of his time with them. It was the principal of the thing.

"I'd like ta see a great big muggle like you try and stop him." Hagrid growled. "Stop Lily and James Potter's son from going? He's been set down to go since he was born! He'll go to the finest school of magic in the world, be with kids like hiself fer a change, and learn under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbledore."

"I WILL NOT PAY FOR HIM TO LEARN MAGIC TRICKS FROM SOME BARMY OLD CRACKPOT!" Uncle Vernon yelled.

Unfortunately for him (though to Harry's great amusement) he had finally gone too far. Hagrid grabbed his umbrela in a rage, swinging it around. "NEVER! INSULT! ALBUS! DUMBLEDORE! INFRONT! OF! ME!" Hagrid thundered.

Suddenly, there was a crack, and Dudley was running around, holding his massive butt from which a pigs tail could be see.

The Dursley family quickly ran in terror upstairs.

Hagrid shook his head.

"Shouldn't a done that." He muttered. "Didn't work anyway. Tried to turn him into a pig. Guess he was just too much a one already fer it to work."

Hagrid glanced over at Harry.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention this ta anyone. Not really supposed to use magic... Strictly speakin'" Hagrid said, sheepishly.

"Why not?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Well... er... I got expelled me third year. Snapped my wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore kept me on as gameskeeper. Great man, Dumbledore." Hagrid said.

Harry almost asked why Hagrid had been expelled, but decided not too. He could tell Hagrid didn't like to be reminded of his expulsion.

Hagrid led Harry out the door, and down to the street. Harry was curious as to how they would reach wherever it was that Hagrid was taking him.

Hagrid lifted his pink parasol, and pointed it in the air. For a second, Harry thought that he might plan to use it to fly them there, much like Mary Poppins did. He almost laughed at the image of the large Hagrid floating in the air like that, when Harry was torn from the thought by a loud bang, which knocked him off his feet. Harry shook his head to clear it from the shock and the noise, only to freeze in surprise. There before him was a double-decker purple bus!

The doors of the bus openned, and the driver, a young man named Stan Stupike, gave them a spiel about the Knight Bus, while Hagrid counted out some coins, and led him back to a bed. Stan barely noticed Harry behind Hagrid's bulk. The pair sat down on one of the large beds, and the Knight Bus sped off.

It was a wild ride, the pair had to hold on tightly to the bed as it barrelled to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry tried to make small talk with Hagrid, asking questions about the magical world. Hagrid answered as best he could, but the wild ride kept distracting them.

When they finally got there, Hagrid led him into the building. As Harry walked into the building, he felt something strange, almost like a charge of static electricity or as if he had just stepped through a spider web, flow over and through him. He shrugged it off, as Hagrid didn't seem to notice anything, but resolved to keep his eyes, and any other senses he had, open.

Inside, a toothless old man stood behind the bar.

"Glad to finally see you, Hagrid." The old man said. "I was begining to think I'd have to hold your room for the entire night."

"Sorry, Tom, had a spot of trouble picking up Harry from his family." Hagrid said, glancing at Harry.

Tom glanced over at Harry, and his eyes widened as they took in his face. He stepped around the counter, and grabbed Harry's hand between both of his.

"It's an honor to see you again, Mr Potter." Tom said, shaking Harry's hand. "I remember seeing you in here with your parents, God rest their souls, just after you were born."

Harry smiled, though a bit nervously. Until he had met Hagrid, no one had ever said anything nice about his parents in his presence. The Dursleys never knew how close they had come to pushing Harry into doing something to them, when they insulted Lily and James.

_'Especially when that witch of a sister of Vernon's shows up.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'Wait a second, I can't call her a witch, since she isn't one. Hag. Hag's a good word for her.'_

Harry briefly considered asking for more information about his parents from Tom, but realised how tired Tom probably was, and kept silent.

Tom handed Hagrid a key, and showed them too the room, where they quickly fell asleep.

The next day, Harry and Hagrid were woken by Tom knocking on the door, bringing them breakfast. It was definitely one of the best meals Harry had in recent memory. Much better than the fare he normally had at the Dursley home.

Harry was surprised when an owl flew into the room, carrying what appeared to be a newspaper. Hagrid calmly paid the bird for the paper, and it flew off.

Hagrid read the newspaper while eatting, stopping every once and a while to answer Harry's questions about the owl. When they finished breakfast, the pair went downstairs, and were confronted by the crowd of people in the main room.

The people froze when they saw Harry, and apparently recognised him. They began to fall all over themselves trying to shake his hand and offer him their thanks and such. Harry found it slightly overwhelming.

They eventually pushed their way through the crowds, to the back of the building, where Hagrid opened the path to Diagon Alley.

Harry looked around, trying to adsorb everything in one gulp. It was almost like a dream, he was finally someplace with others like himself. People who wouldn't treat him like a freak if he talked about magic as anything besides just make-believe.

Hagrid let Harry take it all in for a few moments, grinning at him, before leading Harry to Gringotts. After a bit of talking with Hagrid, Harry had started compiling a short shopping list of things he wanted to at least look into, in addition to his school supplies. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure just how much money he had avalible, so might be limited on what he could get.

All thoughts of his personal fortunes fled Harry's mind when he looked at Gringotts. White marble with bronze doors, it looked less like a bank and more like a palace or temple. Beside the door stood a what Harry figured had to be a goblin in a crimson and gold uniform.

Noting who, or what, Harry was looking at, Hagrid confirmed that it was a goblin. '_Looks more like the ones from fairy tails, than the ones in the D&D games.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'Wonder what other differences there might be between the games and reality.'_

After a brief conversation with a goblin managing a desk, Hagrid and Harry were taken down by rail cart deep underground, to where the vaults were

Harry was astounded by the fortune in bronze, silver, and gold, he had in his vault. Hagrid helped him pile the coines, called galleons, sickles, and knuts, into a money bag, and then there were off to another vault in order to pick up something for Dumbledore. As Hagrid retrieved the package, Harry turned to Griphook.

"Excuse me, may I ask a couple of questions?" He said politely. After all, it wasn't uncommon in fairy tales for a person to get cursed for being rude to a magical creature.

Griphook looked at Harry curiously. It wasn't common for wizards, even muggle-borns, to be polite to anyone non-human. He nodded, cautiously.

"About how much is wizarding money worth, in muggle terms?" Hagrid had explained the term muggle to Harry on the trip to the Leaky Cauldron.

"5.6 pounds to the galleon, as of ten minutes ago." Griphook answered automatically.

"Okay." Harry said in surprise. "Thanks. Also, could I find out just how much I have in my vault? I don't want to accidentally over spend and not have anything to live on."

Griphook nodded again, surprised at being thanked.

"One of the tellers in the lobby can give you your present account balance, Mr. Potter." Griphook said, respectfully.

Harry thanked Griphook, who started the cart moving again, since Hagrid had already gotten his package from the vault.

Once upstairs, in the lobby, Griphook went to one of the more senior tellers, and after a quick whispered conversation, the teller requested Harry's key. Harry handed it over, and the teller took it back to his station.

"Er, what's goin' on, Harry?" Hagrid asked confusedly.

"Oh, I just asked how much I've got in my vault." Harry explained. "I don't know how much things generally cost, so I want to make sure I'm going to have enough to make it through school."

Just then, Griphook brought Harry a scroll, as well as Harry's vault key.

"There will be a 3 galleon fee for the service, Mr. Potter." Griphook said, after he returned the key.

Harry quickly handed over the three gold coins in exchange for the scroll. Harry thanked Griphook, and unrolled the scroll. When he read what was written down, his eyes nearly burst from their sockets.

_**ACCOUNT BALANCE FOR VAULT NO. 687**_

_** 568,743 GALLEONS**_

_** 786,879 SICKLES**_

_**1,012,975 KNUTS**_

Harry couldn't believe it. If the exchange rate that Griphook had given him was accurate, than his vault held over a million pounds worth of galleons! After his removal, at least according to the time stamp on the scroll, which said it had been done mere moments ago.

'_Get a hold of yourself, Harry.'_ He told himself. '_For all you know, this might not be as much as you think._ _For all you know, prices might be extremely high, and you'll go through everything quickly.'_

Hagrid quickly dropped Harry off at Madam Malkins for his school robes, while he went to get a pick-me-up. There, Harry encountered a fellow first-year Hogwarts student. Harry took an almost instant dislike to the arrogant brat. However, the snob _did_ give Harry one piece of info. Apparently, Hogwarts was divided into something called houses.

_'And apparently, Hufflepuff isn't well respected, at least by the likes of that twit.'_ Harry thought to himself.

Harry turned to Madam Malkin.

"Would it be possible to get some magical enhancements on my clothes?" Harry asked. "You know, enchantments to make them harder to stain or damage, easier to clean or repair, adapt to different temperatures, that kind of thing."

Madam Malkin looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head.

"Those are very interesting ideas, Mr. Potter, but unfortunately I don't have the skill with charms or potions to do it.

"Also, buying such would be extremely expensive. I would simply not have enough of a demand for such."

Harry sighed in disappointment.

"I _'could'_ ask around, and read up on the spells I would need." Madam Malkin said hesitantly. "It might be an interesting sideline, especially if it wouldn't require anything too expensive in potion ingredients.

"However, it would substantially increase the costs of the item. Possibly doubling it or more." She cautioned.

Harry smiled.

_'I'll ask around at school about anything in the way of magical clothing that might be useful. Stuff that I can't get at a normal clothing shop.'_ Harry thought to himself.

Harry promised to get in touch with her later about the additions.

After getting his robes, Harry talked to Hagrid who explained a bit about the houses. Harry found it rather interesting.

The pairs next stop was at the local bookstore, where Harry picked up his school books. This was the point where Harry _'really'_ started spending. Most of the books only cost a couple of galleons apiece, so Harry went wild.

Harry bought books on a bit of everything. He bought books on arithmancy, ancient runes, potions, magical creatures, not to mention several books that seemed to be about the previous war with Voldemort, and mentioned his being defeated by Harry, The-Boy-Who-Lived, as well as some blank diaries and journals for when he was ready to compile his own Book of Shadow or Grimoire. He also picked up a couple of books on other magical races, and a few on various magical abilities, as well as _'Hogwarts: a History.'_

"Best if I know a bit more about where I'm going to be living, isn't it?" Harry told Hagrid.

Harry briefly considered buying a book on hexes, jinxes, and curses, but Hagrid informed him that it would be a few years before he was ready for those kinds of spells. Harry shrugged, as curses really weren't his thing. Too much danger of falling to the Darkside. He also asked if there were any books that helped explain the Wizardring World for those who were muggle-raised. From the way the person looked at him as if he was crazy, Harry decided there wasn't.

"Do you at least have something about traditions?" Harry asked the teller.

The teller looked pensive for a bit, and just before Harry completely gave up, the teller muttered. "Well, there's a book or two on ettiqute."

"I'll take it." _'Better than nothing.'_ Harry figured.

After he paid for his purchases, which only came to about thirty galleons, Harry asked if the store had a mail-order service.

The teller told him that there _'was'_ a mailing service, but it was rarely used. However, for The-Boy-Who-Lived, she was certain it wouldn't be a problem. She then handed him a catelogue.

"This has most of the titles we normally carry. For rarer titles, just owl us the title, or the subjects you're interested, and we'll see what we can find."

They then went to the apothecary, where they picked up the ingredients needed for the potions class.

Hagrid then took Harry into the Eeylops Owl Emporium, and bought him a beautiful snowy white owl. Harry could tell she was very intelligent, and it reminded him of the jealousy he had felt when he saw people playing with their pets.

_'Maybe she'll be my familiar.'_ Harry thought to himself, with a bit of hope.

The next stop was for a trunk to bring things to school in. At first, Hagrid thought they should simply pick up a normal one, but Harry went and commisioned a special order trunk with protection and anti-theft wards, feather-light and self-shrinking enchantments, as well as what ammounted to a Bag of Holding, where the insides were much larger than the outside.

_'It's no TARDIS, but it'll make carrying things a lot easier.' _ Harry told himself.

He also splurged on having multiple compartments in the trunk. One for books, a second for clothing, a third for potions equipment, and a fourth for general items.

All-in-all, it cost Harry well a few hundred galleons, but he felt it was money well spent.

As they left the store, Harry remembered something on his personal shopping list.

"Hagrid, would it be possible for me to get some new glasses?" He asked the giant.

Hagrid glanced at the sun, which was getting low in the sky.

"Well, I don't rightly know if there's a place like that, here in Diagon Alley." Hagrid said, regretfully. "Plus, it's gettin' late, and we still need to get yer wand."

Harry noticed the time, and regretfully agreed with Hagrid. _'Maybe I'll just enchant my glasses myself, after I read up on magical theory.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'Or, I could simply teleport here on my own, before I leave for school.'_

The pair then went to Ollivanders, for Harry's wand.

As soon as they entered the door, Harry felt almost overwhelmed. There was such a concentration of... something there. Harry had never experience it before. It was like standing in front of an open blast furnace, or jumping into an iced-over lake.

Just then, Ollivander himself appeared.

_'Is this guy even human?'_ Harry asked himself, looking at Ollivander's strange eyes. Though, however strange Ollivander looked, he definitely _'felt'_ like a wizard to Harry. Much more than anyone he could remember meeting.

_'He's still creepy, even if he _'is'_ a wizard.'_

It was really strange. According to Hagrid, almost every person he had met in Diagon Alley was either a wizard or witch (or a magical being, if you remembered the goblins) but none of them had seemed like they were anything more than normal people, even if they _'could'_ use magic.

_'I guess people are people, even if they're magical or not.'_

Ollivander looked at Harry rather strangely, as if he could _'see'_ into Harry's soul. For a second, Harry thought he felt something strange, like the prickly feel of spider legs on his arms, but in his head.

Ollivander just stared at Harry for a few moments, then nodded.

"Interesting." Harry heard him murmer.

Before Harry could ask him what was so interesting, Ollivander began to speak.

"I thought I would be seeing you soon." It wasn't a question. "You have your mothers eyes. It seems like only yesterday when she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, willow. Nice for charm works."

Ollivander continued with his monologue, telling about the wand which had chosen Harry's father, and the various other wands he had made. Including Voldemort's.

After Ollivander and Hagrid got into a discussion about Hagrid's own wand, Harry decided to ask a few questions.

"Pardon me, Mr Ollivander, but why do we need wands? Just what do they _'do'_?" Harry asked.

Ollivander studied Harry again, with the same pale eyes.

"The wand has many purposes." Ollivander said. "Not the least of which, is to... stablize the individual wizard or witch's magic. It acts to ground the magical discharges, so that one need not worry about accidental magic.

"It also serves to harness and channel the magic, so that one can begin working magic in a controlled form much sooner, and more easily. Without it, it would require a much greater effort to begin working controlled magic."

While Ollivander explained all of this, he began measuring Harry with a silver tape measure.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance; unicorn hair, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings. Some use other sources for their cores, but I find that most of them are too tempermental for my tastes."

Ollivander stepped back, allowing the tape measure to continue on its own.

"Each wand is unique, and you will never get quite as good results from anothers wand." Ollivander said.

"Why's that?" Harry asked, curiously.

"The wand chooses the wizard." Ollivander went to the various shelves, and pulled boxes of wands down. As soon as he had apparently gathered sufficient numbers, he motioned to the measure, which ceased its animation, and fell to the floor.

"Every wand knows the person whom it is most suited for. The person whose magic best matches its own. The one whom it best fits."

Harry had to admit, a wand sounded like it 'was' a necesary tool for the young wizard or witch.

"It's definitely different from the kind of wands I've heard of." Harry said, mostly to himself.

Ollivander frowned. "Other kinds of wands, Mr Potter?" He asked, curiously.

Ollivander was a master of his craft, if there was anything to know about it, especially in these modern times, he would know it. The fact that there was a different kind of wand interested him.

"How are they different?"

"Well," Harry had to stop and gather his thoughts for a moment. "The wands I know of are usually more like a gun."

"A gun?" Ollivander wasn't familiar with the term. While he wasn't one of the pureblood fanatics, he still didn't have much contact with the muggle world.

_'Just how out of touch_ 'are' _these people?'_ Harry asked himself.

"I think I've heard of them." Hagrid said. "Ain't they kind of like a crossbow?"

"Er, kind of." Harry said. "Well, think of the wand as being the gun... er crossbow. Instead of firing arrows or bolts, it casts a spell. The spells aren't being cast by the wielder, but rather they are held within the wand, and released when needed."

Ollivander considered Harry's words.

"Interesting." He murmured. He then used the selection of wands he had gathered, to try and find the perfect match with Harry.

As soon as the wand was in his hand, Harry could feel that it wasn't a good fit. Ollivander apparently agreed, because almost as soon as he had put it in his hand, Ollivander pulled it back out. This continued for several minutes. It had eventually reached the point where Harry could almost tell the wand wasn't the right one without it being placed in his hand.

_'Maybe the fact that I don't need a wand to work magic, means I can't find one.'_ Harry thought to himself.

Strangely, every wand that was tested and failed, made Ollivander happier, and happier.

"A tricky customer." Ollivander said.

This struck Harry as strange. If each wand fit only one wizard, than finding the right wand should have been just as easy, or difficult, for any given mage.

Finally, Ollivander stopped, and had a strange expression on his face.

"I wonder." Ollivander went into the back of his shop, and brought out a new wand.

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Nice and supple."

As soon as Harry saw the holly wand, he knew it was the right one. He took it in his hand, and sparks in a rainbow of colors fountained from the tip. Harry felt a surge of energy flow from him into the wand, and it seemed to warm in his hand.

"Very good, Mr Potter. Well, well, well... how curious." Ollivander said, smiling.

"What's curious, Mr Ollivander?" Harry asked.

Ollivander stared at Harry again.

"I remember everything about every wand I have ever crafted, every wand I have ever sold. The phoenix who gave the feather that rests in that wand, gave one other feather. Just one. It is very curious that you should be destined for this wand, when its brother gave you your scar."

Both Harry and Hagrid's eyes buldged. _'My wand has the same core as Voldemorts?'_

"What does it mean, the fact that our wands have identical cores?" Harry asked, nervously. _'Why do I get a bad feeling about this?'_

Ollivander stared at Harry with his unblinking eyes.

"Generally, having similar cores in your wands means little. After all, each animal is unique. However, the fact that the cores are identical, that is, coming from the same animal, likely means that the two of you share certain qualities. A similarity of potential, if you will.

"However, it is _'only'_ potential, Mr Potter." Ollivander explained. "It is what you _'do'_ with it, that makes one what they are."

Harry quickly paid for his wand, but before they left, he turned to Ollivander, for a final question.

"Would you happen to know an eye doctor here in Diagon Alley? I'm thinking of getting some new glasses."

Ollivander considered it.

"Yes. It's called True Sight, though I believe the proprieter is out at the moment." He told Harry.

Harry sighed in disappointment, but figured that now he knew where it was, he could teleport to Diagon Alley any time he wanted to.

'Even though it'll be the furthest I've ever teleported.'

The pair concluded their shopping trip with a bite to eat, where they engaged in small talk.

Hagrid was just about to take Harry to the underground, when Harry simply shook his head.

"Don't worry, I can make my way back to the Dursleys by myself." With that, Harry gathered his things together, and teleported away. Leaving one very startled Hagrid behind.

* * *

Sorry it's taking so long, but deciding what to change, and by how much, is a bit difficult. Plus, I'd occasionally get stuck, and it would take a while before I could continue.

At the moment, the plan is for Harry to be somewhat more relaxed at first about hiding his his magic, but not extremely so. Simply because he doesn't realise he's that special, at least at first. I think it might not be until either the whole Norbert debacle, or until after he gets shunned because of being a Parselmouth that Harry will start to only trust those who've proven themselves to him.

Though, once he finds out just how 'limited' the rest of the Wizarding World is compared to him, he'll probably try and keep things low key.

I'm still trying to decide if I should have Harry befriend Hermione and Ron. Part of me wants to, and part of me is going on how that is just like the original. Ah well, I guess I'll decide when I get there. Though, I'm leaning towards them being his friends.

Assuming I put him in Gryffindor.

At the moment, Harry's magic style is most similar to 'the Will and the Word' found in David Eddings' _Belgariad_ and _Mallorean_ series, with elements of the Force from the _Star Wars_ series. Mainly because those two seem to best fit the style of magic he mainly performs. Hary has only recently begun thinking of more ritualised spellcasting as a real possibility. Primarily because he hasn't had any real place where he could practice and develop ritual spells. He's got ideas for them, but doesn't have enough knowledge, or experience, to develop them properly.

_Yet_

Harry doesn't have much of anything in the way of real combat spells, simply because he hasn't been able to practice such safely. Though, I doubt if he'll need much in the way of practice for some of the simple effects.

While it's true that Rowlings has said that wands are needed for controlled magic, she's also said that you're supposed to stop having accidental magic after you start school, and we know that's wrong. Not to mention that Riddle-Voldemort was using magic at will prior to Hogwarts, without a wand. Plus, Apparation is done wandlessly, just a matter of will. The magic Harry's doing is simply an extention of that idea.

Book of Shadow, aka Grimoire: A book of magical information, usually containing spells, potions, and misc info on magical plants, animals, beings, and phenomena. Usually used to denote a spellbook.

- - -

I tried glossing over some of the things that are pretty much the same. Hope it helps keep things different.


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus**

**by**

**the DragonBard**

* * *

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copywrite holders and/or creators. Especially any characters from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Albus Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall, Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, were discussing the upcoming school year, when Hagrid entered the Headmasters office. Hagrid had a puzzled look, as if he had seen something that still surprised him.

Headmaster Dumbledore was quick to notice this, but decided to take it slow.

"Did everything go smoothly with Mr Potter's trip to Diagon Alley?" Dumbledore was well aware of the Dursley's dislike of magic, and knew that they would be unwilling to take him to Diagon Alley themselves. In fact, he had been surprised that the first letter had gotten through to Harry. He had half-expected them to try and dispose of it immediately.

"Went fine, Professor Dumbledore." Hagrid said. "Boy went a bit wild with buying books, but with the way those Dursley acted, not surprised."

"Understandable." Dumbledore agreed.

McGonagall nodded her head as well. She had watched the Dursleys for a few hours, and had a very poor opinion on them.

"Well, ya see... " Hagrid hemmed and hahed, trying to straighten his thoughts. "When I went to put Harry on the underground, so he could go back, he told me not to bother, then went an disapparated in front of me."

McGonagall's eyes widened, and she gasped in surprise, while Dumbledore treated them to the sight of the world's greatest living mage frozen in shock. Apparation was the ability of a wizard or witch to disappear in one location, and reappear in another. It was a skill only taught to sixth and seventh years, but here was a boy, not yet even _'at'_ Hogwarts, and he was able to do so!

"Albus, how is this possible?" McGonagall asked, turning to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, having quickly gotten over his surprise, taped his fingers together.

"I'm not sure, Minerva." Dumbledore said. He sat there looking thoughtful for a moment. "Hagrid, before I forget, were you able to get the Philosophers Stone?"

"Right here, Headmaster." Hagrid pulled the package he had taken from the Gringotts vault from his large overcoat, and handed it to Dumbledore. "Also, I've got Fluffy all ready for guard duty. Just say the word."

"Thank you, Hagrid." Dumbledore smiled. "We shall have the final preperations ready within a few hours. I'll let you know where to bring Fluffy then."

Hagrid took his leave of Dumbledore and McGonagall, while the pair turned their attention back to one Harry Potter.

"Headmaster, shouldn't one of us go to speak with him, find out how he learned about it? At least to warn him of the laws about apparation. What if he tried to apparate in Hogwarts? He could splinch himself!"

Dumbledore seemed to think about it for a few moments.

"It would probably be best to simply send Harry an owl with the information." He decided. "I've no doubt that the Dursleys will not be happy with another person from the Wizarding World showing up in their home.

"Though," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "If you wanted to set up a face-to-face meeting to convey the information, I'm sure that would work as well. Possibly somewhere away from the Dursleys."

"Thank you, Headmaster." McGonagall said with a small smile.

The pair began to discuss some of the final preparations for the guarding of the Philosophers Stone, though Minerva could see Dumbledore was distracted. Finally, she felt compelled to call him on it.

"Headmaster, is there something wrong?"

Dumbledore turned to gaze out the window, and then went to pet his phoenix, Fawkes.

"Minerva, in all my years at Hogwarts, as both a student and a member of the staff, I have only come across two wizards who were muggle-raised, that had mastered _'any'_ of their magic, prior to being introduced to our world. Mr Potter is the second."

"And the first?" McGonagall was certain she wasn't going to like the answer.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, staring out the window. "The first, like Mr Potter, was an orphan halfblood. He was born with the name of Tom Riddle, named for his muggle father. Though he now calls himself by another name..." Dumbledore turned to McGonagall and looked her in the eyes. "He now calls himself... Voldemort."

--

The month prior to Harry's first visit to Hogwarts (that he could remember, as it was possible his parents had taken him to their old school before he could remember) was rather interesting for Harry. The Dursley family were terrified of Harry to the point that they simply blanked his presence from their minds. It was like he had cast an invisibility spell on himself. Dudley was the only one to acknowledge Harry was around, and that was to simply run away from him.

Taking advantage of his new freedom, because he was sure it wouldn't last long, Harry called Mr Caufmann and Chad, and let them know about the change in plans for his education.

"Hogwarts, you say?" Mr Caufmann asked. "I've heard of it. Very prestigious, and it's by invitation only."

"Well," Harry said, sheepishly, "it was where my parents went to school. They set it up."

"Ah, a legacy." Harry could practically hear in the grin in Mr Caufmann's voice. "I expect that made things easier.

"Still, I don't doubt that you would have earned it in your own right."

The two quickly concluded their talk, and Harry promised to write. After all, Mr Caufmann had been the first person at school to really treat him nicely. Harry gave Mr Caufmann the postal address that Hagrid had said to use for mail to and from the muggle world. Apparently, that was how they had gotten Harry's letter to him through the normal mail. Most of the time, according to Hagrid, the owl just brought it directly to the recipient's room.

Harry, also got onto the task of naming his owl. He came up with several names, some taken from his History of Magic textbook, then wrote them down.

"Okay," He turned to the owl, who was watching him curiously. "tell me which of these names you like;"

"Athena?" The response on that was ambivalent.

"Boobo?" That earned him a sqwack. Harry could practically hear her saying _'what do you think I am, a male?'_ "I'll take that as a definite no." Harry said with a smile.

"Polgara?"

...

"Hmmm, what about Poledra?"

...

"North Wind?"

...

"Misty?" She seemed interested in the name, so Harry marked it as a possiblity.

"Icy?"

This one earned Harry a stare. _'Boy, she certainl_y 'is' _intelligent.'_

"Okay, how do you like Hedwig?"

The snowy owl seemed to consider the name for a few moment, then hooted to show she had chosen.

"Okay, than Hedwig it is." Harry smiled. "I'll just keep the list of names, in case we have to name any of your chicks."

Hedwig seemed a bit startled, but hooted in agreement.

Harry also spent quite a bit of time roaming around London, specifically Diagon Alley, and the area immediately around the Leaky Cauldron. Harry knew that, being an eleven year old kid, being by himself was pretty much just asking for trouble. While he could definitely protect himself with magic, he remembered something he had read somewhere, about a sword just making some people cocky, getting them into troubles that they would have avoided if they didn't have it.

"What I need, is to either look at least a few years older, or have an adult with me." Harry told Hedwig. "No one would mess with someone who looked like Hagrid. Heck, most would probably leave Dudley alone, because of how big he is.

"If only I looked... bigg... er." Harry trailed off. "I _'can'_ make myself bigger. Just like how Garion turned himself into a wolf, or a falcon that one time."

Harry conjured up a full length mirror, and after studying himself, began to imagine what he might look like in a few years. It took a great deal of concentration to get every detail right. Harry then took the image he had created, and superimposed it over his own, focusing his magic inward.

It was a strange sensation, growing about seven years in less than seven seconds. The first thing that Harry noted was that his balance was a bit off. This was made obvious when he found himself triping over his own feet.

Hedwig hooted in amusement at his prat fall.

"Yeah, laugh it up. Just glad that the Dursleys weren't around to see this." Harry said. His voice was now deeper and stronger. _'Guess I must have taken care of my voice at the same time.'_ Harry thought to himself.

He quickly adapted to his new size, and once he was certain of his balance and coordination, quickly reverted to normal.

"Should keep people from bugging me too much." Harry told Hedwig.

It was a couple of days later that he started using his older form, along with an illusion on his glasses and his clothing to make it look different. He took a couple of hundred pounds for spending money, and looked around muggle London. Since he had transformed himself, buying clothing wouldn't work. Anyway, he could simply transfigure Dudley's into something decent looking that fit.

_'I wonder why they don't do that.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'Transforming one style of clothing into another should be relatively easy. Ah well, yet another question to ask when I get to Hogwarts.'_

One place Harry made sure to stop was a gaming store that Chad had mentioned. It wasn't too far from the Leaky Cauldron, so it was a definite place to shop. Harry picked up a number of game books that looked interesting, including some stuff for an RPG he had heard a bit about, but never picked up. It was called World of Darkness, and was apparently divided into eight different groups, two of which, Mage and Sorcerer, focused on spellcasters. There were even a few novels that dealt with them. Primarily the vamps, but the mages were represented as well.

While the teller rang up Harry's purchases, Harry noticed a rack of various paperback books At a glance, they didn't seem to be part of any RPGs.

The teller noticed him looking, and explained.

"Those are graphic novels. Basically books in comic book form. Most of our customers are also into comic books, and anime or manga, so we try to provide them with some."

Harry gave the graphic novels another look, and decided to buy a few, the one called _'Books of Magic'_ as well as some of the manga.

"Add this to my tab, please." He said, dropping it onto the counter.

The teller quickly added the graphic novels to the total, and Harry walked out of the store a couple of hundred dollars poorer, but with several new books to read.

Harry's next stop, was to 'True Sight,' the wizarding optometry clinic in Diagon Alley. He had to revert his appearance back to normal, but conjured up a hat to cover his scar, and kept the illusion on his clothing, just altered to fit their present size.

Stepping into True Sight, Harry was confronted by several different sets of glasses, from the simple old style ones you might see on an elderly man, to the extremely tacky kind you think no one would ever wear. Any part of wall not covered in glasses, held pictures and posters. One of them was of a giant eye that kept looking around the room. Toward the back of the area, a receptionist sat.

"May I help you?" She asked. She looked a bit younger than Petunia, but not by much. She gave his clothing a quick glance, and then proceeded to stare into Harry's eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. "Um - yeah. I'm interested in a new pair of glasses."

The witch made a note on a piece of parchment that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"When was your last checkup?"

"Honestly, I can't remember, I know it's been a few years."

The witch frowned, and made another mark on her piece of parchment. "Would you like to see the Healer now, or would you rather wait? He doesn't have any appointments at the moment, so he should be free for a walk-in."

"Now, if possible. I'm heading to Hogwarts in a bit, and I want to get used to my new glasses before that." Harry said.

The witch nodded, and took the parchment into a back room. A few moments later, she stuck her head out.

"He'll see you now."

Harry quickly walked into the back, where he met a strangely dressed wizard. One of the wizard's eyes, had a monocule, even though he was wearing a large pair of glasses.

_'Wierd.'_ Harry thought to himself.

"Come in, come in. Sit down please." The wizard said, gesturing to an overstuffed chair in the middle of the room.

Harry sat down as instructed. The walls of the rooms had several strange things around. Some of which looked more like pieces of modern art than things you'd see in an eye doctors place. The were even a few large glass eyes, which rolled on their own, staring at anything.

"Now then, Mr... " The eye healer began.

"Potter."

The eye healer's eye opened wide enough that his monocule fell out. He glanced to where Harry's scar was, hidden under the cap. Harry rolled his eyes, and pulled the cap off. _'Bloody annoying. Now I know how those celebs feel with all those damned paparazzi.'_

"Ah... yes... Mr Potter." The healer laughed nervously, and quickly replaced his monocule. "Let's get you checked out, see what I can do."

The magical eye exam was very different from what Harry remembered from the last time he got his eyes checked. After having Harry take off his glasses, the healer pulled out his wand, and after making the end of it light up with a murmured _'lumos,'_ he shined it into Harry's eyes. Then, the healer pointed his wand at Harry's eyes, and began muttering incantations. A couple of times the healer would glance at one or another of the items around the room, and once he seemed to cast some spell on Harry's glasses. The healer then sat on a stool, and began to make some notes.

"Alright." The healer finally said. "you can put on your glasses."

Harry quickly did so. While he had worked on his mage-sense, so that he wouldn't be completely helpless if he lost his glasses, it was a relief to actually be able to see clearly.

"Your eyes seem to be fine, and your glasses seem to still fit your needs." The healer said. "At the moment, all I can really offer is a replacement for the frames."

"Well, is it possible that I could get some magical enhancements for my glasses?" Harry asked.

The healer grimmaced. "Yes, though those kind of spells need to be placed while we make the lenses, and they're rather expensive..."

"What kind of spells are avalible?"

"Well... you can get a Repair charm, so that any damage to the glasses will be fixed. However, if the damage is bad enough, the charm won't work. Also, the damage could affect the other spells. There's one to let you see better in the dark, and an impervious charm to keep your glasses from getting mucked up in bad weather. Also helps protect from fumes that might come off of potions. There's one that helps cut the glare a bit when the sun's too bright."

The healer looked like he was finished for a second, then glanced at Harry's scar again. "I've also got a charm that I can put on the glasses. Let's you see through things like they weren't there."

_'X-ray vision? Now that's what I'm talking about.'_ Harry grinned "How much for the entire selection?"

The eye healer quickly quoted a price, and Harry gladly paid. He was then led out to the waiting area, where he chose a nice pair of wire-rimmed frames.

"We'll owl the finished glasses to you in a few days." The healer said.

Harry smiled. "Thank you, ... er... I'm sorry, I just realised I never got your name."

The healer grinned in delight. "Quite alright, Mr Potter. Healer Ollens, at your service."

Harry quickly pulled his conjured hat back on, and headed back to the Dursley home. As soon as he appeared in Dudley's spare bedroom, Harry quickly stored all of his purchases in his new trunk.

"Don't want the Dursleys finding out I've got any money. They'd try to make me give it to them. Like _'that'_ would happen." Harry muttered to himself.

Just then, there was a tap at the window. Harry glanced at it, to find a rather regal grey owl there, which he quickly let in. Upon entering, the owl presented its leg, which had a letter in it.

"Wonder who's writing _'me?'_" Harry paused. "I hope it isn't a fan letter."

The owl, it's job done, quickly left out the window.

Harry noticed that the letter was addressed to him in the same green ink that his Hogwarts letter had been written in. _'Guess it's from Hogwarts. Wonder what they want.'_

_** Dear Mr Potter,**_

_**I would like to meet with you at your earliest possible convenience, at the neighborhood park near your home. Some matters have come to my attention that must be discussed as soon as possible.**_

_**Please advise as to the best time to meet.**_

_** Cordially**_

_** Minerva McGonagall.**_

_** Deputy-Headmistress, Hogwarts**_

Harry glanced at his desk clock.

"A bit late for meeting today." Harry told Hedwig.

He grabbed a piece of parchment, and wrote a quick message to McGonagall, setting the time for the next morning. Then, handed it off to Hedwig.

"Here you go, girl."

Hedwig hooted at Harry, and flew out the open window. Harry watched her fly off, then sighed, and laid down on his bed to read some of his books.

"Wonder what she wants to meet about?" He shrugged. "Guess I'll find out tomorrow."

--

The next day, Harry jogged off for his schedualed meeting with McGonagall. Surprisingly, the witch was already there, sitting on a park bench. Harry was certain it was her, because he doubted anyone else in the neighborhood would be found dead in anything resembling witches robes.

"Mr Potter?" She said, standing up.

Harry nodded in confirmation. "Professor McGonagall, I presume?"

McGonagall nodded. "If you would, please sit."

Harry took McGonagall up on the request.

"Well, what can I do for you?" Harry asked, settling down.

"Mr Potter, Hagrid has informed me that you DisApparated in front of him."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Uh, DisApparated?"

"Disappeared. Vanished from one location to reappear in another." McGonagall explained.

"Ah, you mean teleported." Harry smiled in understanding. "Yeah, I teleported back here."

"Mr Potter, were you aware of the laws concerning Apparation? That you need a license to do it outside of training, and that you must be of age to aquire such a lisence?"

"A license?" Harry asked, nervously. _'Ah bloody hell!'_

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. And, if you are discovered Apparating without one, it is a substantial fine. Also, you may be subject to disciplinary action for performing underage magic outside of school, up to, and including, expulsion from Hogwarts, and the snapping of your wand."

_'Didn't Hagrid say that the reason he wasn't supposed to use magic was because he got expelled, and they snapped his wand?'_ Harry's face paled.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't aware there would be any problems. I mean, I've been doing it for years and..."

"_'YEARS?_'" McGonagall gasped out. "By Merlin, how did you ever keep from getting splinched?"

"Splinched?"

"Splinching is what happens when you disapparate incorrectly. You sometimes leave parts of yourself behind." McGonagall explained distractedly.

"Ouch." Harry muttered. "Doesn't sound pleasent."

"No, it is not." McGonagall said, primly. "That is precisely the reason that the Ministry requires a license for apparation. Now, I simply _'must'_ know who taught you apparation. Why, the nerve of them, teaching such a young child to apparate, and not to warn you of the dangers? Completely reprehensible!"

"Taught me? No one taught me. I just did it by accident one day, and figured out how to do it whenever I want to. Like the rest of my magic." Harry's eyes widened as soon as he realised what he had said. _'Uhoh. I shouldn't have said that.'_

"'Rest of your magic,' Mr Potter?" McGonagall asked. "I just know I shall regret asking this, but _'what'_ other magic, and where did you learn them?"

"Well, I just got ideas for spells and stuff from story books, comics, games, that kind of stuff. Then, I'd just figure out what I'd need to do in order to to make the effect I want happen."

"What 'kind' of effects?" McGonagall was obviously nervous, but Harry seemed to excited to talk with someone knowledgable about magic to notice.

"Mostly simple stuff, things that I can easily visualise or imagine; conjurations and basic transmutations usually. I didn't have any place to really practice evocation spells, though I've got some good ideas for them."

"Evocation spells?" McGonagall asked. _'Conjuration spells, and he calls it 'simple stuff?' By Merlin, that's NEWT level spells, and he's not even at Hogwarts yet!'_

"You know, stuff like fireballs, and lightning bolts" Harry explained.

"And you've done all this, with no one the wiser?" McGonagall asked in a strangled voice.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I didn't really do much, usually where I couldn't be seen, or where people could pass it off as coincidence. I had a few goofs, but nothing really major."

McGonagall's eyes were bulging almost out of their sockets by this point. When Dumbledore had told her that Voldemort had developed his magical skills as much as he had prior to Hogwarts, she had half-feared that Harry would be a little monster. Instead, she found him to be much more like his mother, Lily Evans. However, even Lily hadn't been developing her magic to such a degree.

_'Perhaps the Dursleys were better family than I thought they were.'_ McGonagall thought to herself, though she still wasn't too sure about his clothing. Especially after talking with Hagrid about the Dursleys.

After her conversation with Hagrid about the Dursleys, McGonagall had complained to Dumbledore for well over an hour. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had remained convinced that the Dursley home was the only safe place for Harry to live.

"Mr Potter, as you have apparently not been informed, I shall explain some of the laws that pertain to you as a wizard. First, as a child under seventeen, you cannot perform magic away from Hogwarts except in self defense. Also, you are not allowed to perform magic on or in front of muggles who do not already know of the magical world. The punishments for _'that'_ are far more severe than for underage magic use." McGonagall warned.

"What about coincidental magic?" Harry asked. "Stuff that they can't tell is magic, just a wierd coincidence?"

"Well," McGonagall frowned, "I believe that would technically be legal. It would depend on if anyone was hurt, and the specific situation."

"I was thinking of things like, making a bully trip become he could hurt someone, or make it so that they didn't notice the person they wanted to hurt." Harry said nervously.

"That would be fine, I believe. Just so long as no one realised what was really happening." McGonagall glanced at her wrist watch. "Excuse me, Mr Potter, but I must be going." McGonagall said. "I have an appointment that I really must keep." _'I need to speak with Dumbledore about this.'_

"Okay, sorry for taking up your time." Harry said, standing.

"That is quite all right. In fact, once you get to Hogwarts, I would like to see an example of some of the magical skills you have developed." McGonagalls said. "Good day."

McGonagall was just about to turn and leave, when she stopped, and looked at Harry.

"Before I leave, there is one more thing I must tell you." She said "While you are at Hogwarts, do not attempt to apparate yourself, either onto, or off of the grounds, or anywhere in the environs of the school. It is protected by numerous defenses which prevent it. Even attempting it could have serious consequences for you."

"Okay." Harry said, nodding. "Thank you."

McGonagall simply nodded her head at Harry, and left.

--

"I tell you, Albus, if that boy was telling the truth, he must be a genius, if not Merlin reborn!" McGonagall exclaimed to Dumbledore.

As soon as she had returned to Hogwarts, McGonagall had raced to Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster quietly listened as she ranted about what she had discovered.

"Are you certain he was telling the truth?" Dumbledore quietly asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes." McGonagall nodded. "I may not be a legimens like Severus or yourself, but I can generally tell when I am being lied to. Mr Potter was being completely honest. But, how is this possible?"

"Well, both of Harry's parents were extremely talented. It's not surprising that their son could inheirit their talents."

"Albus, I've had talented students before. I have even had some of my best students marry each other, but none of them have ever shown the level of ability needed for _'this'_ to happen." McGonagall shook her head.

"Well, I doubt we'll have to worry about Mr Potter turning out like He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named. He mentioned using his magic to protect people from bullies."

"True." Dumbledore sighed, the twinkle fading from his eyes. "Tom was more inclined to _'be'_ the bully rather than protecting against them."

"I'm more concerned about what Harry said about fireballs and lightning bolts. Do you honestly think that he could actually start casting those kinds of spells? As a first year?"

"You 'did' say that he called conjuration spells, '_simple stuff,'_ didn't you Minerva?" The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes.

McGonagall nodded, falling into one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Oh, Merlin." She moaned, then gave a short chuckle. "Merlin indeed. Now I know how his teachers must have felt. Surviving the Killing Curse as a baby, defeating You-Know-Who, and now _'this?'_ "

"Minerva, remember what we discussed." Dumbledore cautioned. "Don't treat Harry any different from any other student, just because of his situation. He's going to likely get enough of that from his fellow students."

"I remember." McGonagall said, raising her chin. "As if I would treat him any other way."

--

As soon as he had gotten back to the Dursleys, Harry quickly wrote to 'Flourish and Blotts' for information on the underage magic laws. According to the book he was sent, while it was true that the Ministry monitored magic use by underage spellcasters, they didn't start the monitoring until after the first year spent at Hogwarts. Any earlier, and it was generally assumed that any magic was accidental, and outside of the limits of the law.

"Wonder how they can tell the difference between the two." Harry pondered to Hedwig. "Though, it explains why I'm not in trouble yet for all the magic I've done."

Harry sighed. "Still, I better cool it with the teleporting... er, apparating, until after I get my license. Too bad, would have liked to have visited that gaming shop again."

Harry went back to reading, occasionally jotting down a spell or bit of magic from the books he was reading. Anything that appeared interesting. He would also practice using his wand to work magic.

Harry had quickly found that, using his wand made things much easier when working magic. All he need to do was to visualise what he wanted to happen, and with a wave of the wand, it did. Still, permanently enchanting objects was still something he had yet to completely grasp.

Harry headed downstairs, as it was almost time for lunch. He found Dudley sitting in front of the telly, playing some game. On the screen, two groups were fighting. One of them made a gesture, and there was a massive explosion. Several of the monsters fell down, vanishing, while the rest seemed to still be going on strong.

_'Incredible. If I even mentioned something that might be magical, Vernon and Petunia would go bloody nuts, but here Dudley is, playing a game with magic in it, and they couldn't care less.' _ Harry snorted in disgust.

"Okay, you survived that." Dudley muttered. Apparently, he had yet to notice Harry was in the room. "Let's see how you like _'this!'_"

With that, the 'heroes' faded from the screen, then a new monster, looking somewhat like a demon, appeared, and attacked the enemy monsters, destroying them all with a single attack.

_'Cool.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'That would be a neat effect to pull of. Making the monster appear and attack would be easy. The hard part would be to change the environment like that. Probably does that to protect allies from friendly fire. Might have to even create a pocket dimension of some kind.'_

Harry began to contemplate the creation of such a being. _'Maybe I can mail Chad, see if he knows a bit more about it the game.'_

Harry glanced at the title of the game.

"'_Final Fantasy 8.'_" He said. "Have to remember that."

Dudley looked up in shock, noticing how close Harry was to him. The boy quickly left for the kitchen, leaving Harry to roll his eyes at his rotund cousin.

--

It was finally time for Harry to leave for Hogwarts. He got Vernon to drive him to London, as they were heading there anyway to get Dudley's pig tail removed. There was some trouble finding the platform that the Hogwarts Express was leaving from, but with the help of a matronly redheaded witch, he found his way onto the train.

"This is it." Harry told Hedwig, as he settled down in his seat. "Off to Hogwarts."

* * *

Well, that's chapter 3 out of the way.

I believe that this is now the largest project I've ever worked on. Definitely the largest thing I've got on this site.

For those interested, Boobo is from 'Clash of the Titans,' and was the name given to Athena's pet owl. The names Polgara and Poledra are taken from the _'BelgariadMallorean'_ fantasy series, by David and Leigh Eddings. Harry chose those names because both Poledra and Polgara like to assume the form of a snowy owl.

No, Harry isn't a Metamorphomagus, also, he probably won't ever become a real animagus. He simply is transforming himself, much as how he altered the length of his hair in canon. He can also assume animal form, obviously. The method is based on the animal shapeshifting ability of Belgarath from the '_BelgariadMallorean'_ series. Eventually, if he wants, Harry can develop his animal form(s) to the point where it's almost identical to being an animagus. In fact, Harry can become, for all intents and purposes, a multi-animagus. Possibly even a magical-multi-animagus.

If he doesn't get told it's impossible before that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus**

**by**

**the DragonBard**

* * *

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copywrite holders and/or creators. Especially any characters from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Harry was sitting in his compartment on the Hogwarts Express, reading, when the door opened, and a girl with bushy brown hair stuck her head in. Whatever the young brunette was going to say was quickly lost, as she froze in shock at what she saw.

Now, the site of a boy, sitting down reading, would not have normally fazed this girl. However, the book Harry was reading was simply floating in mid-air, as his lap was taken up by a notebook that he would occasionally write in.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked.

"H-how did you do that?" She asked, excitedly. "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger. I'm a first year student. I'm the first witch in my family, we were all surprised when my letter came, but I'm very please to be going to Hogwarts, it's the best school of magic there is, I've heard - I've memorized my course books, I hope it'll be enough. What's your name?"

_Did she just say that all in one breath?_ Harry asked himself, blinking in surprise. "My name's Harry, Harry Potter."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Harry Potter? Are you really? I've read all about you, of course - I picked up some extra books for background reading; you're in _'Modern Magical History,'_ and _'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts,'_ as well as _'Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.'_"

"I read those books, made me sounds like a bloody superhero." Harry sighed. "I'd hoped that would have been able to say how I survived, and why he tried to kill me."

Now, at that moment, Hermione was in a bit of a quandry. On the one hand, Harry had just insulted a book, something that, to her, was almost unforgiveable. On the other hand, it was a book that had been talking about himself, and who should know better if the book was wrong or not than the subject?

Just then, the book that had been floating in front of Harry, began to fall to the ground. Harry was just able to catch it.

"Dang, I guess I forgot to concentrate on it." Harry muttered to himself. Seeing Hermione's curiosity and confusion, he elaborated. "I have to keep a bit of my attention on the spell, or it'll stop working. That's part of the reason why I was keeping it floating while reading, to try and work on splitting my attention better."

Hermione frowned. "I've done a lot of reading ahead and tried out a few of the spells in the books. The spell sounds like the levitation charm, but I haven't come across anything like trying to split your focus."

"Not surprising, I came up with it by myself." Harry explained. "Got the idea from watching '_Empire Strikes Back'_, when they showed Luke's training with Yoda. Still working on the enhanced senses part though."

Hermione blinked at this. "Ah, you _'do'_ know that _'Star Wars'_ is just a movie, don't you?" She asked.

"Sure, but it still had some great ideas." Harry replied, putting his book down. "Especially if I go with the idea from _'Mage: the Ascension'_ that you can use magic to increase your physical skills."

"_'Mage: the Ascension?'_" Hermione asked, confused.

"It's a fantasy role-playing game, or RPG, that I'm looking into. It has super-science, martial arts, and ESP as all being just different ways of using magic."

"Role-playing game? ESP? None of that stuff is real!" Now, Hermione was getting a little irritated. She really didn't like feeling confused, and Harry was definitely confusing her. She didn't care if he was the Boy-Who-Lived, he was crazy!

"Oh, I know that." Harry said, smiling. "You see, when I figured out I was magical, I used stuff like _'Star Wars,'_ and role-playing games like _'Dungeons & Dragons,'_ and _'Mage: the Ascension,'_ to try and get ideas for how to use it. Sometimes, it worked, some of it, I'm still trying to figure out." Harry frowned at that last part, as if remembering something unpleasant.

"Well, let's see it then!" Hermione said in a _'no-nonsense-and-this-better-be-good'_ kind of way.

Harry shrugged, then closed his eyes, and faded away.

Hermione gasped. There were only two possibilities, one, he had made himself invisible, two, he had apparated. However, both of them were much too advanced for kids their age to be doing! _That's impossible!_

Harry blinked back into existence.

"Sorry, it's been a while since I've made myself invisible. Usually I just use it on my things, to keep them safe." Harry said.

"HOW DID YOU DO THAT?" Hermione demanded. "There's nothing about how to make yourself invisible in any of the books I've read!"

"I just closed my eyes, and told myself I didn't want you to see me." Harry said.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut, and started muttering "Don't see me, don't see me." like a mantra to herself. After a few moments of this, she opened one of her eyes. Seeing that she had yet to become invisible, Hermione closed her eyes again, even tighter this time, and restarted the mantra. This continued for a few minutes, but Hermione still didn't vanish.

"What am I doing wrong, why can't I become invisible?" Hermione whined.

Harry frowned, as he tried to remember his own first attempts to wield his magic.

"Hermione, why don't we try something a bit different." Harry said. "Do you remember how it felt when you performed accidental magic?"

After a moments thought, Hermione nodded.

Harry took a deep breath, and began to use the Jedi Mind Trick. Normally, it only worked on the 'weak willed' but considering she was simply guiding her, it would probably work. "Okay, I want you to close your eyes, and recreate the feeling, then wrap it around yourself, and concentrate on the idea that you want to be invisible, unseen."

Harry continued coaching Hermione, until finally she started to fade away. Encouraged, Harry continued until Hermione was completely invisible.

"Hermione, I want you to open your eyes, and look at your hands." Harry told her, smiling. "You did it."

Suddenly, there was a gasp, and Hermione blinked back into existence.

"I DID IT!" Hermione squeeled, bouncing in her seat.

Harry chuckled a bit. Eventually, Hermione came down from her success high, and began to rapid fire questions at him about where he learned how to do it.

"Accidental magic." Harry explained. "I just put two and two together, and realised that I had been working magic for years, but hadn't realised it until then."

"Why didn't _'I'_ think about that?" Hermione asked herself.

Harry shrugged. "Hey, it took me a while before I figured it out too. Anyway, after that, I tried to replicate what I'd done before. I'd also get ideas for new things to try from RPGs, fantasy books, comics, etc. You'd be surprised at how much stuff that's out there is useful, if you don't demand that the casting be identical to how they do it in the story.

"However, I have to admit, some of them 'are' pretty accurate on how they work. Like, that levitation bit you saw me doing." Harry said.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Can you do any of the other things from Star Wars?" Hermione asked. "Like, seeing things?"

"Not too well." Harry grimmaced. "I can sometimes, kind of sense things about people. It doesn't always work. I can also feel things around me, but I can't do it that well yet."

The pair continued to talk for some time, mostly about the magic that Harry had developed, and what they hoped to learn at the school. They stopped for a few moments when a lady brought a cart full of treats by. Harry quickly purchased a bit of everything.

"Want some?" he asked.

Hermione sighed, and shook her head.

"My parents are dentists, so they really don't like me eatting sugary sweets." She said.

Harry nodded. "My aunt and uncle didn't give me many sweets either. So, since they're not here to object..."

The train ride continued in much the same way, with Hermione and Harry talking about magic. Harry occasionally showing a skill he had developed. Though, there 'was' an interesting break in the conversation, when a boy by the name of Neville showed up looking for his toad, Trevor. Hermione volunteered to help find Trevor, and Harry decided to help his new friend. They hunted up and down the entire train, but were unsuccessful. Neville mournfully thanked them for trying, after they had looked just about everywhere.

It was shortly after they returned to their compartment, that they were visited by a trio of boys. The blond that Harry had met at Diagon Alley, as well as two hulks that Harry honestly thought would have been at home in Dudley's gang.

"I've heard that Harry Potter was in this compartment." He said, looking rather pompus. He glanced at Hermione, and then seemed to dismiss her.

Harry nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, that's me." The blond hadn't made much of an impression on him the first time they had met, and if anything, Harry's opinion of him was going even further down hill.

The boy smiled, with an oily grin much like a used car salesman. "I'm Draco Malfoy. Oh, and these are Crabbe and Goyle." Draco gestured at his two companions.

"This is Hermione Granger." Harry said, nodding at Hermione.

Hermione gave a smile at Draco, which faded when Draco pointedly turned away from her in dismissal.

"You'll soon find out there some _'wizarding'_ families are better than others. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort." Draco said, glancing at Hermione. It was pretty obvious from the way he said it, that Draco considered _'any'_ wizarding family better than those who weren't. "I can help you with that."

Draco held out his hand for Harry to shake, seemingly confident that Harry would choose him.

Harry simply glanced at the hand. "Thanks, but I believe I can make that decision for myself."

Draco blushed.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter." Draco said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. Hang around with the likes of this mudblood, or that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Harry stood up, staring Draco in the eyes, and clenching his fists. It was all he could do to keep from using the Force Choke on Draco. He quickly summoned the Void.

"How dare you say that about my friends, or my parents!" Harry said, icily. He drew up his magic, ready for anything Malfoy might do. "I suggest you leave, _'now!'_ Otherwise, I will be forced to remove you."

Draco stared at Harry. He could _'feel'_ the power radiating off of Harry. It was almost like standing in the path of a lightning bolt. Much like how his father had described being in the presence of the Dark Lord.

For a moment, Draco and his friends were terrified, and almost bolted from the compartment, however, as Harry began to rein in his magic, it gave Draco enough breathing space for his arrogance to reestablish itself.

"We don't feel like leaving." Draco said, his voice cracking a bit. "We've run out of food, and you still seem to have plenty."

Harry thought to himself.

"GO!" Harry roared, his voice like a thunderclap. This was just enough to send Draco, Crabbe and Goyle falling backwards, and scrambling to get away.

Harry sat down, and glanced over at Hermione, who looked rather nervous.

"You really shouldn't have done that." She said. "Now we'll be in trouble, even before we get to school."

"Sorry," Harry sighed. "That git just made me so mad, insulting you and my parents like that."

Hermione was rather surprised. She hadn't expected the fact that she had been insulted to even be a factor.

The two sat in silence for the next few minutes. It was finally broken when the train stopped, and they disembarked. Hagrid stood a bit away, calling for all the first years. Harry smiled and waved at his large friend, who grinned at Harry. Hagrid then guided the group to several small boats sitting on the lake. Harry and Hermione ended up sitting in the same one, along with Neville.

They floatted across the lake, into a tunnel. Harry felt could sense the magic, much as he had at Ollivanders wand shop. It didn't seem as concentrated, but at least as strong. Harry was surprised no one else noticed it. The boats all came to rest on shore, and Hagrid found Neville's disappearing toad in one of the boats. Hagrid then knocked on a large door, though pounded might be have been more accurate, considering the noise. McGonagall opened the door, and took custody of the group.

McGonagall quickly guided the group into a small waiting room, and began to lecture them on their futures in Hogwarts, specifically the Houses they would soon be sorted into. Her eyes quickly lancing on any defect in their appearance. She then left for a few moments, giving them time to prepare. A few of the students whispered amongst themselves about how they would be sorted, while Hermione began to whisper about the spells she had learned.

Harry was a touch nervous himself, so he called up the Void to give him a chance at calming down. Just then, a number of ghosts showed up, discussing what seemed to be one of their numbers by the name of Peeves. Harry, as well as others who hadn't been raised in the wizarding world, stared at them.

_Good thing that the books mentioned that Hogwarts is haunted, and that they're harmless._ Harry thought to himself. _Otherwise I'd probably be making a fool of myself right about now, trying to blast them._

McGonagall returned immediately afterwards, and guided them into a large room, the ceiling of which looked like it didn't even exist, and simply opened up to the sky.

Hermione commented that she'd read about it in _'Hogwarts: a History,'_ and that it was charmed to look like the sky outside.

It was then that McGonagall brought out a large pointed hat, which looked almost like something you'd see on a kid dressed as a witch or wizard for Halloween. A tear seemed to open up in the hat, and it began to sing, telling about itself and the four houses. Then, as soon as the song eneded, the sorting began. One boy, most likely the younger sibling of older students, grumbled about the joke that his siblings had played on him.

McGonagall would read a name off of a scroll in her hand, and the child named would then step up, to put the Sorting Hat on their head. For most of them, the Hat would call out the name of one of the houses almost as soon as it was placed on their head. For a few, it seemed to take some time to decide. For Draco, it called out the name before it even touched his head.

_What's that about?_ Harry wondered. _Is it having trouble determining their qualities, or is it something else? Maybe they're personalities are too balanced, so it has to think a bit._

While he wondered about how the Sorting Hat judged a person, Harry noticed that many of the students chosen for Slytherin either had a look of arrogance on their faces, like Draco and the newly sorted Pansy Parkinson, or they seemed to radiate the kind of meanness that Dudley and his gang did.

Finally, it was Harry's turn.

"Harry Potter."

Harry ignored the murmurings from the tables, as he moved to sit on the stool, and put on the Sorting Hat. He felt _'something'_ flow into him, similer to the spiderlegs feeling he had gotten at Ollivanders. Harry almost jumped up and ripped the Sorting Hat from his head, but stayed on the stool.

_'Ah, now let us see.'_ The Sorting Hat's voice sounded inside Harry's head. _'Ah, a very good mind. One of the best I've seen in years, in fact. Quite cunning, and with a thirst to prove yourself. Not afraid of hard work, not at all, and loyal to those you call friends. A great deal of courage as well as a very strong will. Well, this is going to be very difficult, deciding where to place you. You would do quite well in any of the houses. In fact, the Founders would have likely been fighting over who got you in their house.'_

Harry allowed himself a moment of pride. At the Dursleys, he'd never been picked for any teams, as the kids didn't want Dudley to think they liked him. Here, he'd have people fighting over him.

_Can I ask you something?_ Harry directed his thoughts at the Hat.

_'Go right ahead, my boy, though you don't have to project your thoughts with quite so much force. When I'm on your head like this, I can hear them quite easily.'_ The Hat chuckled.

_Well, is that group of Slytherins you've just sorted for my year, are they as... unpleasent as I think they are? And are they about how all the other Slytherins are like?_

The Sorting Hat seemed to sigh. _'Unfortunately, yes, to both questions. For the past few centuries, the quality of Slytherins has gone rather down hill. You're one of the few I've seen who would truly fit the ideals of the house.'_

_Okay._ Harry thought. _That pretty much rules out Slytherin as a choice, because I don't want to be looking over my shoulder the entire time I'm here. I'd end up with an ulcer before I graduated!_

_'Are you certain?'_ The Sorting Hat asked. _'You could do very well there.'_

_Yes, I'm here to learn how to be a wizard, not deal with would-be politicians._ Harry replied.

_'Well, while you're certainly qualified for any of the houses, your desire to learn means you should really go to...'_

"RAVENCLAW!" The Sorting Hat called out its choice for Harry.

The Great Hall errupted into cheers from the Ravenclaw table, while Professor Flitwick looked like a child told that there would be an extra Christmas that year. Professor McGonagall hid it well, but Harry had a slight feeling of disappointment from her.

Before he vacated the Seat, and gave the Sorting Hat to McGonagall, Harry spent a few more moments in conversation with the Hat.

_You've been here, practically since the school was founded, haven't you?_ Harry said. _So, you've probably picked up quite a bit of knowledge over the centuries._

_'Some.'_ The Hat said with a grin. _'Between talking with the various Headmasters, listening to their conversations, and having nothing to do but come up with new songs, I do a lot of pondering about magic, and the world. Not to mention the knowledge I was given at my creation, and the various bits I've picked up from the students. Why?'_

_Is there any chance that I could talk to you, and pick your brains... er, mind that is? Like I said, I've come here to learn all I can about magic, and being what you are, you've probably got a lot of knowledge, especially about stuff that the rest of the world has forgotten. _ Harry asked.

_'I would be honored, Mr Potter.'_

_Call me Harry._

_'Very well then, Harry. Most of the time I stay in the Headmaster's office, but I'm certain he won't mind you coming to visit occasionally. I look forward to our conversations.'_

Harry quickly took off the Sorting Hat, and handed it to McGonagall. He then went over to the Ravenclaw table, sitting beside a girl named Padma Patil. The rest of the night passed quite quickly for Harry, and he soon found himself in his new bed.

The next few days were rather interesting, as Harry started his first magic classes. The first class was History of Magic, taught by a ghost by the name of Binns. Harry figured that the subject would be interesting, but any interest he might have had, was killed by Binns. He soon found out from some of the older students that even among the Ravenclaws, almost no one could muster any interest in History with Binns teaching. There was also a rumor that Binns had bored _'himself'_ to death, and that's why he was a ghost. Privately, Harry agreed there was a good possibility of it.

"You'd think that, with all the magic around here," Harry commented to Padma. "That they could come up with some more interesting ways to teach history to us. I mean, they should be able to cast some kind of spell to let us look into the past, or maybe have some of the ghosts from those periods come and give us lectures."

Padma nodded at Harry. "Yeah. That's a good idea. You might want to mention it to one of the Prefects later. Though, from what I've heard, it would be impossible to get Binns to change."

The next class was Herbology, specifically dealing with the care and magical properties of magical plants. Harry didn't really find it interesting, though it definitely wasn't dull, considering some of the plantlife was willing to try and eat you if you weren't careful. Fortunately, they wouldn't be getting close to those until much later in the year at the very earliest.

At the end of the first class, as they were filing out of the greenhouse where class was being held, Harry stepped up to Professor Sprout.

"Professor Sprout?"

Sprout turned to Harry with a small smile. "Can I do something for you, Mr Potter?"

"I was just wondering, are we going to be learning any green magic in this class?"

Sprout frowned in puzzlement. "Green magic?"

"You know, spells that deal with plants, making them grow how you want to, make them stronger or weaker, or make them move around as needed."

Sprout shook her head. "I'm sorry, but anything of that nature falls in the area of charms. This class is only about plants, their magical properties, and how to grow and care for them."

"Okay." Harry said. "I was a bit curious."

Harry then headed out of the greenhouse.

Sprout began to prepare for the next class, though thoughts of what Harry had spoken of drifted through her head.

"I'll have to ask Filius if he knows anything about this 'green magic.'" She murmured to herself.

Harry's next class was Transfiguration, taught by McGonagall. She was definitely a no nonesense teacher, and after a quick lecture, started them on their first spell. Basically, a cantrip to turn match sticks into needles.

As soon as McGonagall told them to start, Harry began to practice the incantation and wand movements for a few seconds to make sure he had them right. He then, with a firm image of the needle he wanted the matchstick to become, cast the spell. The transformation was nearly instantanious.

"Very good, Mr Potter." McGonagall said. She had been walking around the classroom, watching the students progress. "Five points to Ravenclaw for getting it right so quickly."

A few of the others glanced at Harry in jealousy, but he didn't notice, as he decided to practice the spell a bit more.

It was several minutes later, and almost time for the class to end, when McGonagall noticed Harry turning his needle back into a matchstick, and then back again into a needle. Harry had been the only one to transfigure his matchstick completely, so she had been busy observing the progress of her other students.

"Mr Potter, may I ask what you are doing?" McGonagall said, curiously.

"Just practicing a bit of fine control. See how much effort I have to put into the spell in order for it to work properly." He explained.

McGonagall eyes widened in surprise, as she nodded in understanding. For most students, at this point in their lives, it required all their effort to get a spell to work. They didn't develop much in the way of fine control until after they had a fair number of spells that they could use in everyday situations, and used them a lot.

When the class was finally over, McGonagall asked Harry to stay a few moments.

"Mr Potter, I'd like to meet with you tomorrow, about 7 o'clock." McGonagall said in a business-like manner. "I wish to continue the discussion we had earlier."

"Okay." Harry nodded.

"Also, I wish to bring your head of house, Professor Flitwick as well, if that isn't a problem.."

"No problem, Professor." Harry smiled. "See you tomorrow then."

McGonagall quickly went to Flitwick's classroom. She knew that he, like herself, would be between classes for a short time, and wanted to speak with him as quickly as possible. When she entered the classroom, Flitwick was sitting at his desk, apparently grading some papers.

"Hello, Minerva." Flitwick smiled at the Deputy Headmaster.

"Filius." McGonagall nodded at her coworker. "I've just set up a meeting with one of your Ravenclaws, and I would like for you to be there."

Flitwick frowned. "Is there something wrong? Who is the meeting with?"

McGonagall shook her head. "Oh, nothing is wrong, it's just... you haven't had a class with Harry Potter yet, have you?"

Flitwick shook his head. "No. I don't have my Ravenclaw first years until tomorrow. Why do you ask."

McGonagall sighed. "Just... keep an eye on him, and then come talk to me. I don't want to bias your opinion."

Flitwick nodded. "Very well, Minerva. Though, I do wish you would explain what this is about."

McGonagall laughed. "I doubt if you would believe me, without seeing it for yourself first."

The next day, after class, Flitwick and McGonagall met in the teacher's lounge.

"I think I know what you were talking about earlier." Flitwick said, sitting down. "Mr Potter was asking questions left and right. First, he asked what the nature of magic was. Then, why, except for transfiguration, and combat spells, all of the spells was taught as charms, when magic was too diverse to be limited to just three classes of spellcasting."

Flitwick stared McGonagall in the eyes "He even started asking about other means of casting spells, besides the method we use now. He made comments about how different types of art might be used to perform magic, and even specifically mentioned rituals."

McGonagall's eyes widened, and she nodded her head. Rituals were very high level magic, and were never taught at Hogwarts. Especially since many of them fell under the category of the dark arts.

"Also," Flitwick continued. "Just after you left, Pomona came to me, asking about something called 'green magic.' Some kind of magic to do with plants, she said. Of course, I had never heard of it, and asked where she had come across the term. Said a student asked her about it, specifically one Harry Potter. I've even had one of my prefects come to me with a suggestion that Mr Potter gave her about ways to possibly improve the way we teach history.

"Now, Minerva, just what is going on? As the boy's head of house, I feel that I have a right to know."

McGonagall sighed. "As you know, because of his situation, we had Hagrid take Mr Potter to Diagon Alley for his school supplies."

Flitwick nodded.

"What you probably haven't heard, though, is that after they finished, Mr Potter disapparated in front of Hagrid."

Flitwick was shocked.

"That was my response as well." McGonagall said with a chuckle. "As I was saying, Potter disapparated in front of Hagrid. When Hagrid told Albus and myself, I went to speak with him. He explained that he had simply figured out he could perform magic, because of his accidental magic over the years, and begun learning how to control it. He had also used muggle literature for ideas on what he might be able to do with it.

"What's more, Filius, not only is the boy self-taught in magic, including apparation, but apparently he has 'never' splinched himself while apparating, or teleporting, as he called it."

Flitwick was impressed. Even _'with'_ proper teachers, most people splinched themselves at least once.

The pair continued to talk about, what was looking to be their most promising student of the year, if not their entire careers as educators, until it came time for their next classes. As the two left for their respective classrooms, Flitwick agreed to be at McGonagall's office for the meeting.

---

It was just about seven o'clock when Harry knocked on McGonagall's office door.

"Come in."

Harry opened the door, and slowly stepped in. He knew that he hadn't done anything wrong to warrent an office visit, but he was still rather nervous.

"Please, sit down, Mr Potter." McGonagall said from her desk, gesturing to a chair in front of it. "I've asked Professor Flitwick here, both as your Head of House, and as Charms professor."

Harry nodded at Flitwick, sitting down in the indicated seat.

McGonagall looked at Harry, seeming to measure him, inside and out, with her eyes. "Mr Potter, this is not a disciplinary meeting, so you may relax."

Harry chuckled. "Sorry."

"Quite all right, Mr Potter." Flitwick said, with a chuckle of his own. "I would have been nervous too, if I had been called into a teachers office for a meeting the first week of my first year."

"Mr Potter," McGonagall began. "In our earlier meeting, you mentioned you had developed magical skills based on those found in muggle stories. Perhaps you could describe some of this magic to us."

Harry blinked.

"Uh, that's a pretty large order." He said. "I'm not exactly sure where to begin."

"Perhaps, you can tell us a bit about green magic, I believe it is called?" Flitwick said.

"Well, green magic is a term for earth magic, sometimes called nature magic." Harry explained. "Magics that work with the natural order of things, especially plants. Though I've read where it also deal with animals, and the elements. Usually it works by... _'talking'_ with nature, or the spirits of nature, elementals and the like, is the best way to describe it I think."

"And what do you do with green magic?" Flitwick asked.

"Control plants, and animals, primarily." Harry said. "In some stories they can shapeshift into the form of an animal by calling on its spirit."

At this, McGonagall frowned. _That sounds rather similar to the process for the animagus transformation._

Harry continued. "Green magic's usually very focused on the natural world. Stuff like the weather, the seasons, plants and animals, it can deal with. But things like teleporting, turning invisible, levitating things, those aren't really a part of it. It works _'with'_ or _'through'_ nature, not against or outside of it."

The two teachers nodded in understanding.

"Well, besides green magic, there's the really interesting stuff..."

"Such as?" Flitwick asked.

"Well," Harry sighed, leaning back in the chair. "There's just so much. There's elemental magics, for one. Spells that control the individual elements of nature."

"Wouldn't that be nature magic?" Flitwick asked.

"There's a lot of overlap," Harry said, shaking his head. "But, they're different types. Nature magic means working with nature, while elemental magic just means controling the elements.

"Though," Harry continued. "Just 'which' elements changes from story to story. You have the basics; fire, earth, air, water. Then, you also have light, darkness, life, death, chaos, order, spirit, void, time, and space.

"Of course, you already knew all that." Harry said sheepishly.

McGonagall and Flitwick looked at each other.

"We do?" They chorused.

---

Later that night, McGonagall and Flitwick came into Dumbledore's office.

"Did your meeting with Mr Potter go well?" Dumbledore asked. "Lemon drop?"

"Albus, if I ever believed the pureblood propaganda about muggles being inferior to us, that boy would be the only evidence you'd need to convince me otherwise." McGonagall replied, exhausted.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he observed his two senior staff (well, senior staff who were still alive.) "And just how did our young Mr Potter convince you?" He asked with a smile.

"Using nothing but ideas drawn from muggle literature, Mr Potter has practically mastered transfiguration and conjuration." She glanced at Dumbledore's tea set. "May I?"

"Go right ahead, Minerva." Dumbledore smiled.

"Filius?" McGonagall asked.

"If you don't mind, I would love a cup." Flitwick said.

"Hadn't you said that, during your previous meeting with him, that he called conjuration 'easy stuff?'" Dumbledore asked, as McGonagall pour tea for the three of them. "So why are you so surprised?"

"I decided to test the boy, to see what he could do." McGonagall stared into Dumbledore's eyes. "For all intents a purposes, I gave the boy a shorter version of the OWLs Transfiguration practical, and he was able to do everything perfectly. I even had him conjure things for me, and it worked. If he could imagine it, he could make it appear."

McGonagall frowned. "Though he seems to have some problems with transfiguring living creatures, though I think it was because he didn't want to harm them by accident. Once I had been able to assure him that I could reverse the transformations if he could not, he did it quite easily. Also, he doesn't seem to be able to perform self sustaining magic. His spells seem to require at least a little concentration from him, or they fail."

"Something that Minerva forgot to mention," Flitwick added. "Is that Mr Potter did all of this without the use of either a verbal spell, _'or'_ his wand!"

"If Mr Potter is so advanced in your class, what should we do?" Dumbledore asked McGonagall.

McGonagall sighed, and took a sip of her tea. "While the practical skills are very advanced, he still needs to understand the theory. I suppose I could have him continue with the class, and simply use the time to work on extra credit.

"To be perfectly honest, I almost asked him to try and transfigure himself. The only reason I didn't, was because I was half-afraid he'd succeed."

Dumbledore nodded, not showing his surprise.

"There was one thing he mentioned that sounded much like part of the process of becoming an animagus. However, from what he said, he thought it might be possible to assume other forms." McGonagall explained.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. The fact that a person could assume only one form as an animagus was a well established rule in transfiguration. It was possible to self-transfigure into different forms, but doing so was difficult and dangerous. However, here now was someone who could very well be able to unwrite that rule of magic.

"We talked of several things that the muggles have come up with in their stories about magic. Some of which make me wonder why we never thought of them before." Flitwick said. He took a sip from his cup of tea. "He also mentioned several ideas that I can't wait to explore. Did you know, that according to his ideas, the Point Me charm would be considered a form of divination, as would various detection charms we use? The way he explained it, however, makes me wonder why we didn't see it. Imagine, expanding Divination to teach information gathering charms."

Minerva gave a disapproving sniff. "I'm not entirely sure I like the idea of mixing actually useful spells with Sybill's '_Inner Eye.'_" She said.

Flitwick and Dumbledore smiled. It was well known that McGonagall wasn't fond of the divinations professor, or of divination period.

"It's unfortunate that it seems as if Charms doesn't work quite as well for Mr Potter." Flitwick said. "I would enjoy seeing some of the charms he has mentioned that he has yet to develop a means to perform."

"Oh?" Dumbledore said, curiously.

Flitwick nodded. "Apparently, Mr Potter works magic by visualising an effect, and then focusing his will into making it a reality. As long as the boy can visualise it, in some way, he can do it, though he has some difficulty on manipulating more than one object at a time, he said. He also seems to use a bit too much force in his charms, but both will come with experience I believe, as well as a better understanding of magical theory. Unfortunately, there are many charms which are more difficult to visualise, as they deal with less concrete concepts. Mr Potter mentioned some ideas he had to correct his difficulty with working those kinds of magic, however, once we get past this particular problem, I have little doubt I'll be in much the same situation as Minerva here; what to do with a student who can already perform every spell you can teach?"

McGonagall sighed. "I think that the worst part just may be the fact that he described all of these amazing things, and not only was he sorry he hadn't done 'more,' but he believed that we understood most of what he was talking about!"

The three professors sat sipping their tea in silence for a few moments, each one contemplating.

Finally, Dumbledore set down his tea cup.

"I think it would be best if we continued treating Mr Potter as another student. However, I want you too to make sure he knows that if he has any question, you will be there for him. Perhaps suggest some reading material you might feel he could benefit from." Dumbledore said. "Maybe ask for an occasional demonstration of his skills, if he is willing. We should encourage him, and make sure that we do not try to inhibit him, though _'do'_ make sure his experiements don't endanger himself, or any of the other students."

"Just as we finished his meeting," Filius commented, "Mr Potter asked if there was anyplace in the castle where he could practice some, what he called 'area effect' spells that might be too big for a classroom. I'm not aware of any, myself... ?"

McGonagall shook her head, while Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

"I may have an idea or two," Dumbledore announced. "However, I shall have to look into it more. I'll tell you if I come up with something."

Both professors nodded in understanding.

"Are there any other suggestions?" Dumbledore asked. When the two shook their heads, he continued. "Then I believe that I will bid the two of you, a good night."

With that, the two professors set down their tea cups, and with murmured good night, left for their rooms.

Dumbledore glanced at his old friend, Fawkes the phoenix, and muttered to himself.

"Very interesting. Very interesting, indeed."

* * *

It has been brought to my attention that I goofed. I forgot to tell my readers that I had set this story 5-10 years later than most people set the HP timeline. So, figure early 21st Century or so.

If anyone is curious, I'm really not sure about how I'm going to ship this story, if at all. Since Harry's a Ravenclaw, I'd say Cho, Luna, and Padma probably have an edge, especially since Harry's not going to be as close to the Weasley family as in canon. Hermione's also a possibility, though she might well retain the sisterly role she has in canon. I haven't decided. Then again, I might decide that Harry and Ginny are soul mates, and will be together no matter what.

Heck, I might go all out and have Harry end up in a group arrangement like what Kinsfire has.

Once Harry learns of the Weasely twins creativity, he might start working with them to develop magical items.

As before, I've glossed over most of the stuff that is the same as canon, in the interests of saving time. Though, I _'do'_ need to pick things up. Chapter 4 and I haven't even reached the first class with Snape! Yikes! Maybe I should quit it with the glossing over, and just write what's different, skipping the parts that are too similar completely?

You know, I think I've been taking this story a bit too serious. I'm going to try and relax a bit, and stop trying to make things quite so 'realistic' if you catch my meaning. After all, this story is 'supposed' to be fun! If this means I accidentally make Harry a bit _**'Super'**_ then, ah well. At least I tried.


	5. Chapter 5

**Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus**

**by**

**the DragonBard**

**

* * *

**

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copywrite holders and/or creators. Especially any characters from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Harry was sitting in the Hogwarts Library, reading, when Hermione sat down beside him, setting down her own large pile of books.

"Hi." Harry said with a small smile, looking up from the paper he was writing for a moment.

"Hello." Hermione said, smiling back.

The two of them began reading, with Hermione glancing at Harry occasionally.

"What're you working on?" Hermione finally asked.

"Some extra-credit assignments for Charms," Harry grimaced. "I'm researching spells that are self maintaining, and I'm supposed to figure out how they do so, and what makes them different from the spells that require an effort on the caster's part to maintain."

"That sounds very interesting." Hermione said.

"It is." Harry said.

Hermione frowned after a second. "We haven't covered any self-sustaining charms yet."

Harry nodded absently. "Yeah, he gave me some book titles to look up. Said anytime before summer break would be okay."

Hermione glanced at what she could see of the cover, making a note of the title for later reading. She was a trifle jealous that Harry had shown himself so talented

Harry turned his attention back towards his work. Though Hermione noticed he was frowning a bit.

"Everything, okay?" Hermione asked.

Harry set down his quill and book, and shrugged.

"Yeah." He sighed. "Pretty much. It's just that, something doesn't feel quite right, and I just can't place it yet. Not to mention the fact that, I'm surprised we're getting taught cantrip spells, but not the cantrip skills."

"Cantrips?" Hermione frowned in confusion. "What are those?"

"Oh, sorry." Harry smiled in embarassment. "That's what I call these really simple spells we've been taught so far. I also use the term for... er skills, is the best way to put it, that aren't spells, but can help with magic."

"Oh?" Hermione found this fascinating. "Such as?"

"Well, being able to feel your magic as you're casting a spell, being able to clear your mind and focus, stuff like that."

"Where did you hear about this kind of stuff?" Hermione asked, excitedly, then worriedly glanced at Madame Pince, the librarian, who was glaring at the two of them.

"Was it from your books? Like the invisibility spell?" Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded.

"Can... you do those kinds of things?" Hermione asked, slowly.

Harry nodded again. "It's pretty simple, once you get the hang of it. Then again, you could say that about most skills."

Hermione frowned in thought for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision.

"Harry," She said, turning to look at him. "Would you please teach me?"

Harry stared in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I've been hunting through the text books, the books in the library, I've even talked with a few of the upperclassmen, and none of them know anything like what you told me about on the train." Hermione said.

Harry blinked in surprise, both at the question, and at the fact that even upperclassmen hadn't heard of some of the stuff he and Hermione had talked about. He hemmed and hawed for a few moments, scratching the back of his head in thought. "Honestly, I'm still figuring things out myself."

"Then tell me what you can." Hermione pleaded.

Harry sighed. _'I just _'know'_ I'm going to regret this.' _ He thought to himself.

"Alright, I'll teach you as much as I can." Harry shook his head.

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione smiled.

Harry glanced over at the glaring Madame Pince. "Maybe we should talk about this someplace else, as I think the librarian is getting irritated at us."

Hermione paled a bit at the thought of angering the guardian of the books, and the two quickly gathered what they had chosen to check out, and left the library. It was a short time later that they found an unused classroom, and sat down.

"I'm going to give you some of the background information I have. If I've already told you this, I apologise." Harry said.

Hermione took out some parchment, and prepared to start making notes.

"There are basically eight different schools or types of spells. Each school is determined by what the spell does, and how it works. The first is Conjuration. Conjuring spells are those that make physical objects seem to appear from nowhere, either by creating something from thin air, or spells that teleport creatures or objects. The second type of spell is Illusion, which is pretty much what it says. Third is Evocation, which is mostly attack spells. Fireballs and lightning bolts, stuff like that. Basically, any spells that shoots energy. The fourth type is Enchantment, which are spells that affect the mind or the emotions of the person the spell is cast on. Fifth, is Divination, all spells that you use to get information are part of this group. Sixth is Necromancy, which is made up entirely of spells that deal with death and undead creatures, and stuff. The seventh group is called Abjuration, which are all spells that prevent or counter something, or protect you. Then there's Transformation. Most of the transformation spells are like what we're learning in transfiguration, but there's a lot of spells I'm not sure why they're there; like levitation and flying. Basically, it's any spell that changes something."

Hermione nodded, writing down the information as it was given to her.

"Most of these groups," Harry continued. "Have their own subgroups. Conjuration is divided between summoning spells, teleportation spell, healing spells, and creation spells, those that create things from thin air. Evocation is divided into subgroups, based on what kind of energy the spell uses. Illusion spells are based on the nature of the illusion, what its purpose is, etc.. There's a lot more too it than that, but I'd have to dig up the _'Players Handbook'_ first. That or try and find where I have it written down in my notes."

"'_Players Handbook?'_" Hermione asked.

"It's one of the basic rule books you need to play _'Dungeons & Dragons.'_" Harry said. "I think it's got the best way of organising spells and magic. Then there's the system in _'Mage: the Ascension.'_ They divide spells based on what the magic's meant to affect, divided up into Spheres rather than what the spells do. They had as Spheres ; Matter, Spirit, Mind, Life, Space, Time, Force, Entropy, which deals with stuff like destiny and death, and something called Prime, which seems to be about magic and the nature of existence itself. It's not bad, but I don't completely agree with the Spheres they chose. Not entirely sure why, I just don't."

"Are there other systems?"

Harry nodded. "There's a couple. One that is dependent on how the spell is cast, whether it's a ritual spell, or a spell you can cast pretty much at the drop of a hat, or if you use written symbols to cast the spell. Also, you can catelogue spells based on what you use to power the magic, which seem to have an effect on what the spell can do, and how well it does it. Not to mention there are other ways to group spells by what they effect, a bit better than the Spheres. The groups are called Colleges.

"There's Earth aka Nature or Green Magic, which draws its power from all aspects of nature, and the natural world, but mostly life and living beings. That's best for things involving life and the elements. There's Order Magic, Elemental Magic, Mind Magic, Chaos Magic, Death Magic, Blood Magic, etcera, etc." Harry waved his hand, indicating that there were tons of other types of magic. "If you can think of it, there's probably a magic that's tied to it somehow.

"There's also something called _'Wild Magic.'_" Harry said. "It basically means magic in a very raw, uncontrolled state. It's very powerful, but very dangerous, since it doesn't have the control that you normally have. It's kind of like the difference between a wild and a domensticated animal. Both are esentially the same, but there are differences in the way they act. Wild magic doesn't follow the same rules that normal magic does, and can do some things that are otherwise impossible."

That seemed to spark a thought in Hermione. "The books I've read mentioned accidental magic, and that it's common in magical children, before they go to school. I wonder if there's any connection between accidental and Wild Magic."

Harry grew thoughtful. "Interesting idea. It's entirely possible, but I'd have to do a bit of studying first.

"Well, getting back to the explanation, Death and Blood Magic, and probably some other kinds as well, seem to be classified under the title _'dark magic'_ or _'the dark arts,'_ which is as good a term as any. Though I think the term black magic is more traditional, honestly."

Harry knew he was babbling a bit, but after his meeting with Flitwick and McGonagall, he had found he enjoyed talking about magic. It had been difficult for him to correlate all of the information he had gathered over the years into a way for someone else to understand, so in his free time, he had been writing down some notes of what he had gathered about magic from all of his reading. It wasn't perfect, but it 'did' make things easier for him.

Hermione finished her notes on what he had told her, then glanced at him.

"You said that there were other ways of casting spells. Could you give me examples?" She asked.

Harry shrugged. "There's a lot of ways. I've read books where the spells were created as computer programs, or they've used some kind of mathematic equations as the spell. A number of authors have used various kinds of art; music, sculpture, painting, poetry, even dance as the way their wizards cast spells. I've also read books where they use what they call techno-wizardry, or techno-magic, which is combining magic and technology in a way to do different things. Some magic systems involve carving or drawing shapes called rune magic, or putting spells into tattoos so they can be used by non-mages. There's also different ritual magics, where the spellcaster has to do several different things to cast any spells. The rituals usually involve either religion in some way, or certain _'Laws of Magic.'_"

"Laws of Magic?"

"The Laws of Magic are some general rules and guidlines that a lot of writers use to make spellcasting easier. They aren't hard and fast rules, really, but a lot of authors use them. There's three of them that I can think of off the top of my head, though different books had extras, but these are the most common: Law of Sympathy, or _'like equals like.'_ Basically means that if have something that either resembles or symbolises something else, then you can use that symbol to manipulate what it symbolises. The better the symbol used, the more effective the spell. Then there's the Law of Contagion, that basically says that any object that was once a part of something else, like hair or nail clippings, can be used to affect the whole. The third law is the Law of Names. The Law of Names says that, everything has its own personal name, that perfectly describes that person, object, or creature, and that the name gives power over that which it names."

"That sounds a bit like the Law of Sympathy, just that the true name is the perfect symbol." Hermione said

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I think it's supposed to be a way to make sure the magic effects only the specific individual you want it to."

"Well, getting back to what we were talking about, the way I prefer to work magic is something called _'Will and the Word'_ though it was often called sorcery as well in the books. Basically, you focus your will, and then use a word or phrase to help shape that will."

Hermoine frowned. "But, I've seen you work magic without saying anything."

Harry nodded. "That's because, instead of a word, I usually use an image, or visualise what I want to happen, to shape and focus my will. Remember, it's not the how you shape your will that's important, but the will itself." _'Though it does seem that whenever I stop concentrating, I loose hold of the effect. Maybe I need to try using words instead.'_

"Okay," Harry said, after he decided to table that thought. "Here's a cantrip. It's not that easy to do at first, but once you can, it tends to be a lot of help."

Hermione nodded, eager to learn one of Harry's cantrips.

"Okay, the first thing I want you to do, is close your eyes."

Hermione was a bit surprised, but just shrugged it off, and followed Harry's orders.

Harry nodded. "Okay, next, I want you do imagine a small fire. It doesn't have to be big, just a candle flame will work."

Hermione nodded, to show that she had understood, and was ready for the next part.

"Okay, Hermione, now I want you to do is to take everything you're thinking, feeling, all of it, and start feeding it into the fire. Let the flames burn it all up, until there's nothing left in there but you, and the fire."

Harry watched as Hermione attempted the trick, seeing the frustration begin to show on her face. It kept growing, until Hermione finally opened her eyes, frowning.

"I couldn't get it to work." She said. Harry could see her eyes begin to tear up. "Every time I put something in, I couldn't stop thinking, and I had to put the thoughts in, and I got frustrated... and I... "

"Now... just... hold on." Harry stuttered. _'Oh no, she's crying! Now what do I do?'_ "I told you this wasn't easy. It took me over a week before I could feed everything into the fire, and even longer before I could do it whenever I wanted, or without closing my eyes."

"Really?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Really. It was a real pain, but it made everything so much easier when I finally got it done. Now, I don't even need to use it most of the time, unless I'm doing something new, or that needs a lot of concentration."

Harry conjured a hanky for Hermione, and handed it to her. She gratefully accepted it, and began to clean up a bit.

"Keep it." Harry said, when she tried to return it. "I'll just conjure another one if I need it."

Harry frowned at the hanky, turning it from the plain white it was, to a more Gryffindor red, with an embroidered **_'H. G.'_** in gold thread at a corner. Hermione smiled a bit at the gift.

"Now remember, try it when you get the chance, but don't get frustrated if it doesn't work. Just keep working at it, until it happens. After that, you'll find it much easier to form the Void." Harry said, smiling.

"Are there other things like this, other _'cantrips'_ that you know?" Hermione asked, curiously.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Though, it's probably best if we wait until you've gotten a bit further with the Flame and the Void before you start working on them. It'll make things easier."

"Is that the name for this? The _'Flame and the Void?'_"

"One of them, anyway. The other name is _'the Oneness.'_" Harry explained. "The reason being is that, when you achieve the Void, you're supposed to be much more aware of things, and able to do them more easily. Also, it helps you to focus, calm, and center yourself."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"What are some of the other cantrips?" She asked.

Harry pursed his lips, and mentally debated with himself about telling her, but decided that, so long as she didn't know how, it would be okay. There had been a few minor accidents early in his self-training that could have turned out very badly, had he messed things up, so he didn't want her to practice some of them on her own.

"Well," He began "One thing I've worked on is a way to actually _'see'_ magic. I call it mage sight. Doesn't seem to be as instinctive as it is in some of the books I've read, so it isn't that easy. Not very sensitive yet, but I hope to reach a point where I can easily tell not only that something's enchanted, but the strength and nature of the spell as well. Of course, there's probably spells to do all that, but I figure if you can do it just by looking, it'll make things much easier.

"Another cantrip I've been considering developing is astral projection. It's where you temporarily seperate your spirit from your body, and either allow it to move around the physical world, or travel to other, less physical, planes of existence."

"Planes of existence?" Hermione noted the unfamiliar term.

"Planes of existence are... well it can mean a couple of different things. Sometimes they use it to mean a different universe, or another dimension." Harry explained. "Other times, they use it to mean a different level or area of reality. Like the Afterlife, or something like that." 'I'm surprised she hasn't come across the term before in her reading.'

Hermione jotted this information down, nodding when she was reading for him to continue.

Harry continued, giving Hermione a few more examples of cantrips he planned to teach her. Hermione soaked them up like a sponge, already making plans to go through the library, to research anything about the skills Harry mentioned. There hadn't been much of anything on what he had mentioned earlier, but she was sure that, with a bit more time, she could find something.

After all, it wasn't like Harry could have been the first person to discover this, could it?

- - -

Harry kept a carefully neutral face as Quirrel stuttered out his lecture to them.

_'This guy may be brilliant at theory, but I wouldn't be surprised if he'd faint before he could defend himself.'_ He thought to himself.

From what Harry could gather, between the stutters, their first year of Defense against the Dark Arts (DADA for short) would be almost entirely theory, as the spells used in DADA were simply too difficult to be learned until they had at least a terms worth of charms and transfiguration spells under their belts.

In fact, the name of the class was a bit of a misnomer, as they would cover not only protecting against dark magic but also dark magical creatures such as vampires, werewolves, bogarts, and such.

When Quirrel finally paused, and asked if their were any questions, Harry raised his hand.

"M-mmr Pott-tter."

"I actually have two questions." Harry waited for a second, until Quirrel nodded for him to continue. "The first question is; just what are the dark arts? What makes them different from any other spell or magical creature that can do injury, or is otherwise dangerous? My second question is; if there is such a thing as _'dark arts,'_ than is there such a thing as _'light arts?'_"

Most of the class just looked at Harry as if he was crazy. However, Quirrel's look was very different. For just a second, it was almost as if the stuttering professor was trying to read Harry's soul. The moment quickly passed, however, and Quirrel returned to his normal self.

From what he was able to tell, between the stutters and everything, was that the dark arts were dark because they drew their power from an individuals dark side for their power. Dark magic spells were strongest when they were cast with some negative emotion feeding them. Dark creatures were those whose magic made them associated with darkness, such as the vampire's weakness to sunlight, the werewolf's madness, or the bogarts use of fear as a defense.

Harry nodded. "What is light magic than?"

Quirrel frowned. "I'v-ve nev-verr hearr-rd of light magic."

Harry frowned in response.

"If the dark arts get power from negative emotions and death, than light magic would get its power from life and positive emotions." He reasoned.

Quirrel blinked in surprise.

"Well, the only sp-pell I know lik-ke that-t is the Pat-trrronus." Quirrel said. "It-t's a verrry diffic-cult-t spell, used-d t-to d-drrive away dd-darrrk-k c-crreat-turres, succ-ch as Dd-dement-torrrs, and leth-thifold-ds."

Harry was rather surprised at this, but decided to keep quiet, as he noticed several of his classmates giving him strange looks. Even Padma looked a bit confused.

After that, DADA continued with no interruptions, and Quirrel's stutter even seemed to relax a bit. However, Harry could tell something strange was going on. Harry quickly left as soon as class ended, heading to the Ravenclaw dorm, the definition of dark magic on his mind.

_'From what Quirrel said,' Harry thought to himself. 'the dark arts are basically like the Darkside of the Force, but there doesn't seem to be much of a Lightside to balance it. Just the neutral magics we're being taught.'_

Harry shook his head. Every day in the Wizarding World just seemed to bring more and more questions, and confusion.

- - -

Harry was sitting down at breakfast, when Hedwig flew to him, carrying a letter. Harry was rather surprised, as he had yet to write anyone.

'Who would use my own owl to write me a letter?' Harry asked himself

He quickly took the letter from her, giving her an affectionate rub of the head, and offered her a piece of sausage, which Hedwig quickly accepted. A quick glance was all he needed to tell it was from Hagrid.

**_Dear Harry._**

_**I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.**_

_**Hagrid.**_

Harry smiled, and quickly wrote on the back of Hagrid's note, accepting the invitation.

- - -

Not too long after, Harry found himself heading for his first potions class of the year. He was a bit apprehensive, though he was also excited and looking forward to it at the same time. Apprehensive, as that was one magic he was completely unfamiliar with, so all of his information about it came from the books he had picked up. It was for that same reason he was excited. It was completely new to him!

_'I wonder if potions and alchemy are related.'_ Harry thought to himself. He had yet to find much information about alchemy, and no real definition for it yet. About all he got were a few names of famous alchemists; Flamel, Paracelsius, Agrippa, and a few others. _'I guess I'll ask the teacher about it.'_

The class was double potions, with both the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. Harry had heard from older Ravenclaws that Snape was not one who suffered fools or incompetents gladly. There were a few other grumbles, but Harry wanted to form his opinion on his own, so decided to try and keep an open mind.

The students gathered outside of the potions laboratory, waiting for the door to open, when Snape appeared, directing them inside with a sneer. As they went in, Harry could 'feel' Snape's gaze on him, and even without looking at the professor, he could tell that it held the same kind of contempt and loathing that his aunt and uncle had looked at him with.

_'This, does not bode well.' _ Harry thought to himself.

Harry decided to sit beside Padma, who smiled at him shyly, before turning her attention to Snape.

As soon as all of the students were in the classroom, Snape launched into a speech about potions, and how he could teach them to do anything, without 'useless wand waving' as he put it.

_'I wonder if he's only good at potions making, or just a potions fanatic?'_ Harry pondered at the back of his mind.

It was then that Snape, after commenting on Harry being a _'celebrity'_ began to fire off questions at him. Fortunately, Harry had done quite a bit of reading to prepare for this class, and was able to answer them with very little difficulty.

This only seemed to enrage the potions master, who stared Harry in the eyes for a few moments. Harry again had the sensation of _'something'_ touching him inside his head. It wasn't like the all-enveloping feeling of the Sorting Hat, but more like the spider legs that he had gotten when Ollivander looked in his eyes. On a hunch, supported by Kenobi's advice to Luke about clearing his mind to keep the secret of Leia being his sister, Harry called up the flames, and stuffed everything into them, until the Void appeared. Once that happened, Snapes eyes grew wide. The spider leg feeling seemed to fade, and then, with a sneer, Snape snarled at them to write what he had said down, and gave them a recipe for a potion, and commanded that they make it.

Harry rolled his eyes as he began to gather his potion ingredients.

_'What, no instructions on how to do something, or anything about the potions, just _'here's the recipe, now make it!' Harry thought. _'Bloody Hell, those upperclassmen weren't exaggerating the fact he's a flaming arse!'_

Harry resolved to do his best to study the basics of potion preperation, and see if there was anything about the hows and whys of potion ingredients. 'Maybe even something that tells me what the various ingredients do, and what their purpose in the potion is.'

Harry sighed as he went back over the recipe for the potion. With the horrid teaching styles of Binns and Snape, it was going to be a lot of work to get decent grades in those classes. Especially with his teaching of Hermione, and working on his other magics. He was just glad that, now that he was at Hogwarts, he would have much more research material, and wouldn't be limited to just what he thought up himself. Still, he wished he could be in two places at once.

Harry paused. '_Two places at once. In Mage, the wizards have means of magically doing that. Plus, there are spells to, at least temporarily, increase your mental abilities, both in Mage and in D&D. If I could figure out how to do that, I could be studying, or working on my own projects, at the same time I was in class, or someplace else! I could boost my mind, so whatever I wanted to, I could remember instantly!_'

The prospect of what he was contemplating was so exciting, that Harry almost made a major mistake with his potion. Thankfully, Padma caught him just before he dropped in the nettles, while Snape was beratting a Hufflepuff.

Harry pushed thoughts of being in two places at once, and increasing his mental abilities, to the back of his mind, and focused his attention on the potion in front of him.

Needless to say, when Snape passed by Harry and Padma's table, he insulted everything about the potion, how it was too thick, the wrong shade, etc. Harry could 'feel' the hate coming off of Snape, so wasn't certain if Snape was right, or if he was lying through his teeth.

_'I wonder if any of the seventh-years would be willing to tutor me.'_ Harry gathered his things together, and left the potions classroom.

"What's a matter with you, Harry?" Padma demanded. "If I didn't catch your mistake, than the two of us would have ended up in the hospital wing, like that Gryffindor I heard about!"

"Sorry, got to thinking about something else, and got distracted." Harry apologised. He then paused for a second. "Question, why are we being taught something so easy to make dangerous, on our first class, when we're being taught the simplest spells in the other classes? Shouldn't we be starting on something very simple, and relatively safe?"

Padma, and a few others who were in their potions class, stared at Harry for a few moments.

"I don't know." Su Li, a fellow Ravenclaw said. "That's an interesting point."

The others, who were still around, began muttering among themselves about Harry's question. Now that they thought about it, it 'was' kind of strange.

_'Not to mention the fact that Snape barely gave us any instructions on how to prepare the ingredients, and what the dangers were.'_ Harry thought to himself. _'It would be like one of my primary school teachers telling us to add two numbers, without explaining how to add. That's not even counting the fact that a small mistake could wind up hurting you badly!'_

Harry sighed. _'Didn't even get to ask him my question about alchemy.'_

Harry decided to head off to the library to study, and look up any interesting spells. Not to mention, make up a list of what to teach Hermione. Unfortunately, it was just at that moment that Snape stalked out of his classroom.

"What are all of you doing, standing out here?" Snape demanded. "Two points from each of you for blocking the hallways, and five points from Potter for questioning my teaching style!"

With his job of creating misery in all non-Slytherins done, Snape stalked off, leaving the unhappy first years heading back to their common rooms.

Harry began to grumble to himself. _'What is it with that git? We just got out of class for pity sake. Anyway, I don't think simple questions like that are grounds for taking points.'_

Harry continued grumbling in his head about Snape as he headed off to the library. _'If things keep like this, I'm going to have to look into what kind of protections students have from abuse of authority.'_

- - -

Harry headed off to Hagrid's shack, followed by Hermione. Harry had spoken with Hermione shortly after his unpleasant first potions class, and had mentioned he was going to Hagrid's place for tea. Hermione asked if she could come with him, as he had seemed rather pleasant from the little she had seen of him prior to the Sorting.

It had been rather easy to find, with a few quick directions from one of the Gryffindor upperclassmen. Apparently, Hagrid was a favorite of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

As soon as Harry knocked on the door of Hagrid's shack, there was a loud, booming barking behind the door accompanied by frantic scratching. Then, Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back."

Hagrid poked his head out, telling them it would be a moment, as he wrestled with the unseen Fang. A few seconds later, the door was opened, with Hagrid holding an enormous boarhound by the collar.

"Make yourselves at home." Hagrid said, gesturing for them to come inside. As soon as they were in, Hagrid let go of Fang, who bounded up to Hermione, licking her face. Laughing, Hermione pushed Fang away, wiping her face off.

Hagrid handed her one of his enormous handkerchiefs, chuckling.

"Sorry, 'times I think Fang there forgets he ain't a puppy." Hagrid said.

"That's okay." Hermione said, as soon as she had the dog slobber off of her face.

"Hagrid, this is my friend, Hermione. Hermione, Rubeus Hagrid." Harry said, introducing his friends to each other.

With that out of the way, the three started on the small talk. Hagrid was interested in how their first days of class had gone, and pleased about how well they had done.

"What I don't understand is Professor Snape," Harry said, shaking his head. "It's like the man has it in for me."

"Rubbish," Hagrid said. "Why should he?"

However, it was clear that Hagrid wasn't telling the truth.

_'So, Hagrid knows something,'_ Harry thought to himself. _'Now, what could it be?'_

As he pondered this, Harry absently picked up a newspaper cutting, that was lying under the tea cozy.

**_'GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST'_** the headline read.

Harry quickly glanced through it, to find that the very day of his shopping trip, Gringotts had been broken-into. However, the vault they had attempted to steal from had already been emptied.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the vault was most likely the one Hagrid had takent the mysterious package from.

_'After all, how many Gringotts vaults would have been emptied that very day?'_ Harry asked himself.

Hagrid looked at the clipping in Harry's hand, and grabbed it.

"Sorry," He said, putting the clipping away. "Bit of a mess. Meant to clean up a bit before 'ye showed."

Hagrid was looking everywhere, but at the faces of the two children. It was obvious to the both of them that he was hiding something, but the question was, what?

Harry and Hermione quickly finished their tea, laying aside their rock cakes.

"That was rather strange." Hermione commented as they headed back.

Harry nodded.

"More than you realise." He told her, and explained about Hagrid's emptying of Vault 713 the day of the attempted robbery.

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Whatever was in that package, it must be very important, if the theif was willing to try and break into Gringotts." She said.

Harry nodded.

"But what is it, why is it that important, and why was it moved that day?" Harry asked.

Questions which neither of them had the answer to.

- - -

Harry sat down at one of the several study tables in the Ravenclaw common room, and pulled out some notebooks, scrolls, and several books that he had decided to study. A few of the purebloods scoffed at the obviously muggle notebooks. Harry simply shrugged at them.

"Makes it easier to keep notes together." He said.

Most of those who had scoffed, rolled their eyes at the thought, though several seemed to be interested in the concept. Though they kept their interest to themselves mostly. While Ravenclaw wasn't as into the whole _'anti-muggle'_ attitude as Slytherin, it still had its proponents of the pureblood issue. Most of them simply kept it hidden better than the average Slytherin.

Ignoring the purebloods, Harry decided to write a letter to Chad and Mr Caufmann, just to let them know how he was doing. After all, he didn't have enough friends in the world to simply ignore any of them, even if they wouldn't be seeing each other that much.

**_To Mr Caufmann and Chad._**

_**How's everything going with you two? I'm doing good, getting used to the new school, and classes.**_

_**Everything's so different from primary school. The kids in my dorm are all as interested in reading and studying as I am. In fact, that's what the dorm is known for, so I hope to make some new friends. I've already started, and gotten to know this one girl; Hermione Granger. From what I can tell about her, I'd be surprised if I wouldn't be able to get her interested in helping me set up an RPG or a SF/F club in the school. She's already expressed an interest in some of the D&D books I've got. There's also a girl named Padma Patil, who's in the girl's wing of my dorm. She seems nice, though I haven't gotten to know her as well as Hermione yet, so I'm not sure if she would be interested in that kind of stuff.**_

**_As for the classes... the History teacher is even more boring than you can imagine. There's a bet among the upper levels that he's going to bore 'himself' to death one day. The Chemistry teacher isn't the nicest guy in the world. Seems to have it in for everyone, just about. Punishes you for any infraction he can think of. Supposed to be an expert in his field, but I guess it just prooves the old saying 'Those who can do, those who can't, teach!' The rest of the teachers seem fine. Apparently, most of them were here teaching when my parents were students. I plan on seeing what they know, what stories they can tell me._**

_**Well, that's all I have for the moment. Hope to hear from you soon (or at least before the end of the school year, and yes, I'm talking to you Chad.)**_

_**Your friend**_

_**Harry Potter.**_

Harry gave the letter a quick read-through, and set it asside. He'd send it with Hedwig tomorrow.

'Okay, that's done.' Harry turned to one of his spellbooks, or rather, one of the notebooks where he had put all of the questions about the Wizarding World that he wanted answered. There were quite a few.

_**What is alchemy? How is it related to potions?**_

_**Is there a ranking system for wizards, and if so, what is it?**_

_**If there are dark arts, then shouldn't there be light arts?**_

_**If light arts exist, why doesn't there seem to be a class for, or any mention of, them?**_

and the last, and possibly most important one...

_**Why am I getting all of these funny looks when I ask about something, or mention something that's completely obvious?**_

Harry crossed out the question's about the light arts, and replaced them with;

**_If wizards are so concerned about the dark arts, why hasn't more effort gone into the light arts?_**

_**Why does Hogwarts seem to lack so many things that you would think one of the world's greatest magic schools would have?**_

Harry sighed. So many questions, and no idea where to get the answers.

_'Most of the time I stay in the Headmaster's office, but I'm certain he won't mind you coming to visit occasionally. I look forward to our conversations.' The Sorting Hat said._

Harry blinked in surprise, as the memory popped into his head.

_'Of course, the Sorting Hat!'_ He thought to himself. _'It should have at least _'some'_ of the answers to my questions.'_

_

* * *

_

For those of you who are much more familar with the D&D and other various magic systems than I am, and believe that I have made some mistake in Harry's explanation, just let me remind you that this is just the way Harry understands it. Even with all of his brains and creativity, he's only 11.

Sometimes I wonder about the Wizarding world. I mean, Hogwarts is supposed to be their equivalent of the big named schools, like Oxford, MIT, Harvard, etc. However, there's a lot that seems to require being self taught, or that requires you being taught at the job. Dumbledore is specifically mentioned as being as good as he is _'because'_ he taught himself, most of Harry's skills are self taught (because of the Tri-Wizard Tournament) and so on. Also, you can't tell me that the diverse needs of all the jobs in the wizarding world, are covered by the bare handful of classes you get at Hogwarts. Especially since bureaucrats take the same courses. That would be like a guy getting an engineering degree, and then going into politics.

There's a lot of information being given by Harry in this chapter. I'm kind of afraid that this is a bit of an infodump. Too much info given in extra large bites. If you feel this is the case, please tell me, so I can try and not repeat it.

Basically, there are at least three ways of organising spells. First, by how the spell works, what it does; called schools. Second, by what the spells affect or does; you can use Colleges or Spheres for this. Third, by the method of magic working; be it Rune magic (magic involving use of drawn or carved symbols), ritual magic (magic involving multiple elements involved in the casting of), potions, spells (such as Charms and Transfiguration), or other methods.

Yes, I am aware that White Wolf has altered things, replacing Spheres with the Arcana, however, at this point in the timeline, Harry hasn't come across the new system. Though, I do believe that seperating the Sphere Entropy into the Arcana Death and Fate improve things. It's going to be a bit before Harry comes across this new way.

For those curious; the schools come from _Dungeons & Dragons_, Colleges come from _GURPS_, Spheres come from _Mage: the Ascension_, and the idea of organising magic working by casting method, comes from _RIFTS_.

In this story (at least for the moment) I'm defining the dark arts as magc that draws its power and shape from pain and negative emotions such as hate, and those magics whose purpose is to cause death, and suffering. Light arts are those whose power is drawn and shaped by postive emotions. So far the only examples of the light arts we've seen in canon, are the Patronus, and the magical protection that Lily's sacrifice gave Harry.

All curses, hexes, and jinxes, are technically part of the dark arts, even if only to a minor degree.

I'm not to fond of my definition of what dark magical creatures are, but that's the best one I can come up with at the moment. I may eventually refine it for this fic. If so, I'll think about replacing the one in this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus**

**by**

**the DragonBard**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copyright holders and/or creators. Especially any characters, settings or components from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

It was the work of a few minutes to find someone who could point him to the Headmaster's office. Unfortunately, Harry discovered that finding it would be the easiest part of getting in. Standing immediately in front of the stairway which lead to the Headmaster's office, was a large stone gargoyle, blocking the entryway. The gargoyle resembled some kind of goblin or demon (Harry made a mental note to see if there were any magical creatures who actually looked like that) and didn't seem to give any indication that it would be willing to let Harry by.

According to _Hogwarts: A History,_ the gargoyle which guarded the Headmaster's office, would only open at a command from the Headmaster themselves, or after being given a password, set by the Headmaster.

"Well, the wizarding world has animating paintings and photos, so animating a statue, and turning into a watchgolem, shouldn't be too difficult." Harry muttered to himself.

The book had continued, saying that the gargoyle was highly protected by powerful wards, which were in fact part of the magical defenses of the school itself. To get through them, you would need to dismantle the wards that defended Hogwarts, which were among the most powerful known. Unfortunately, the school staff were generally the only ones given the password. Meaning that, Harry was likely stuck outside.

_Unless I can convince the gargoyle to let me through._ Harry thought to himself. _Yeah, like that's going to happen._

"Still, what do I have to loose?" Harry asked himself, shrugging. "Excuse me, but I was wondering if I could come in. The Sorting Hat invited me to speak with it."

The gargoyle simply sat there for a minute, and Harry was just about to consider it a waste of time, and hunt down Flitwick to see if he would be willing to let him in (something he probably should have done in the first place) when the gargoyle moved out of the way, revealing the stairs. Not wanting to look this gift horse in the mouth, Harry quickly passed the gargoyle, and headed up the stairs. A few moments later, and he found himself entering the Headmaster's office for the first time.

It was quite a sight, with numerous strange devices sitting around the room. Against every wall were pictures, presumably of former headmasters, as well as bookshelves, and cabinets. Standing near the desk, was a rather large, and beautiful, red and gold bird. The bird, as well as the pictures of former headmasters, seemed to regard Harry with some surprise, and curiosity, obviously wondering just what this boy was doing there.

"Ah, Mr Potter." Harry turned to where he heard the voice coming from. There, sitting on a shelf, was the Sorting Hat. "I was wondering when you would be coming to have our little talk."

The red and gold bird sang a note of question at the Sorting Hat.

The Hat chuckled. "Yes, Fawkes, I invited him here during the Sorting. It's not often I get the chance to speak with someone like him. Usually, it only happens if they become headmaster."

Harry noticed that several of the pictures on the wall seemed to be whispering to each other, but decided that it would be better to just ignore them. After all, he wasn't doing anything wrong, was he?

"Mr Potter, would you mind moving me to the desk?" The Sorting Hat asked. "I believe that would be easiest for us to talk... unless you'd rather wear me again?"

Harry shrugged. "Whatever would be easiest for you."

Once the two of them had both settled themselves down, the Sorting Hat began to speak.

"Well, I'm sure you didn't come here just to sit and chew the fat, as it were, so what's on your mind, my boy?"

Harry grimmaced. "You know, it's strange. In some ways, this place is just like I dreamed it would be, but there are things that are just so confusing."

"Oh?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I mean, there are things that seem so obvious to me, but when I mention them, it's like no one ever thought of it."

"Oh?" The Sorting Hat asked, curious. "Such as?"

"Oh, illusion spells to show things better, make them easier to understand. Since ghosts are real, maybe have some who were actually _at_ historical events tell us about them. Things like that.

"Also, I just get the feeling that there should be so much... _more_ to this place. As if I should be able to open a door, and find myself in an entirely different world, or even between worlds." Harry shook his head. "There just seems to be something missing."

_Could it be?_ The Sorting Hat asked itself. _Could he be the one?_

The Sorting Hat sighed. "You must understand, Mr Potter, the Wizarding World is a place very slow to change. They will only look for the new if forced to by circumstances. The development of the floo network, and floo powder, for example, were forced by the fact that all other methods of magical travel of the time, were either impractical, such as dual apparation for those with children, and use of portkeys, or endangered the Statute of Secrecy, as flying carpets did."

"Floo Network?"

"A system of magical portals connecting most of the fireplaces in the magical world, at least here in Britain." The Sorting Hat explained. "The powder is thrown on to a burning fire which opens the portal, you then state your destination, walk into the portal, and within moments, you are there."

"Huh." Harry nodded, making a note to look into information about it. "Interesting."

The Sorting Hat studied Harry as the conversation continued.

_The boy still doesn't understand how special he really is._ It thought to itself. _Every bit as talented as the Riddle boy, but without the arrogance. He doesn't yet realise that he is doing something new, which no one else has. However, the time is coming when he will finally discover the truth, and that truth may break him, or push him even harder._

When it had first been created by Godric Gryffindor from one of his old hats, the Sorting Hat had merely been a way to help them better determine the qualities of their students, to see who would best fit which of the Founders. However, as the years had gone on, all four of them had laid more spells upon it. These spells had tied the Hat to the collective experience of all of the past Hogwarts Headmasters. This was meant to have multiple purposes. First, it would improve the Sorting Hat's ability to determine which Hogwarts House would best fit an individual. Also, during times of strife, the Sorting Hat could use this experience to give warnings to the staff and students Now, that accumulated experience told the Hat to let Harry find out about his qualities for himself.

"Well, besides that little problem, how have things been going?" The Sorting Hat was curious. "How are your lessons coming?"

"Pretty well." Harry said with a shrug. "Expected a bit more prepatory training, before we got into actual spells, but I guess they figure the children were taught it at home. Though, why they forget that the muggle-raised like me and Hermione won't have anyone to teach them, I don't know. I had to explain all of this to Hermione myself."

"Indeed. An oversight I will be sure to bring to the Headmaster's attention." The Sorting Hat said. "What err... _prepatory_ training have you done, might I ask?"

"Well, just the basics." Harry said, embarrassed. "clearing my mind, controlled visualisation, calling up my magic, reaching out with my senses, basic cantrips like that. I plan to get a bit further, but it was hard to do it without my aunt and uncle finding out. They're not the world's biggest fans of magic."

"That is very good, Mr Potter." The Sorting Hat muttered. "Especially seeing as how you have had no training prior to Hogwarts."

_It sounds as if he has partially self-trained in Occulmency._ The Sorting Hat thought to itself. _No wonder Snape came up to Dumbledore earlier, screaming about the boy. Now, how to steer him in the right direction without tipping my hand... er brim, and making him suspicious?_

While the Sorting Hat pondered, Harry brought up something that had been bothering him ever since he bought his wand.

"Do you know anything about... er You-know-who?" Harry asked. "Ollivander said something about selling him his wand, and I've heard he was in Slytherin, so you must have encountered him during his sorting."

The Sorting Hat nodded, at least, that's what Harry assumed, as otherwise it looked like it was bowing.

"Yes, I once sorted the boy who eventually chose to call himself Voldemort." The Sorting Hat acknowledged. "Though, the charms which created me keep me from revealing any specific information I gain during the Sorting. I _can_ tell you, however, he was not born with that name, and once called himself Tom Riddle."

"So, it's okay to say his name?" Harry asked. There were mentions in some fantasies about beings of power who were aware of others speaking their name, or where the name itself held some kind of power. There was even the old belief that to say the Devil's name would be to bring his attention, or even summon its presence (ie: the saying _Speak of the Devil._)

"Yes. The name holds no power, but that which the people's fear has given it." The Sorting Hat acknowledged.

Harry nodded to himself. _It's strange that people who can work magic, are so superstitious. You'd think they'd be able to tell the difference between real spells and charms, and superstition._

Harry frowned as something occured to him. "Didn't you tell me that the Slytherins were of poor quality? Wouldn't that be something you discover during the sorting?"

The Sorting Hat shrugged. "Measuring such qualities is part of my purpose, and is not against the rules. It is only specific information I gather during the sorting I am precluded from revealing."

"Hmmm." Harry wasn't quite buying it, but decided to set it asside for the moment.. "Speaking of measuring, is there a way of measuring, or ranking wizards? Their skill levels and magical strengths? Or, how about detecting magical talents or abilities?"

"Surprising questions from a first year." The Sorting Hat commented. "However, considering who you are, I shouldn't be that surprised. May I ask what made you think of it?"

Harry shrugged. "In a lot of the fantasy novels and games I've read, they use a lot of different names to show a person is of a certain power level. They usually call them _Masters,_ or for the really powerful ones, _Adepts, __Archmages,_ or occasionally _Grandmasters,_ though they usually use that more as a title for the head of an group, but it's still a sign of rank. So, I was curious how close the stories were to reality."

"Well, I can tell you that a Master-rank is more than something out of one of your silly books, my boy!" One of the paintings on the wall broke in.

Harry turned to the painting in surprise at the outburst.

"Oh?" He said.

The man in the painting nodded.

"Yes. In fact, all of the former headmasters here held at least one Mastery in our days." The man turned to one of his neighbors on the wall and began to mutter about children these days.

Seeing as how the gentleman didn't seem inclined to continue, Harry turned back to the Sorting Hat.

"While it was **rude of him to interrupt our conversation,**" the Sorting Hat yelled the last of the sentence at the man in the painting, who simply turned away in disgust. The Sorting Hat then turned back to Harry. "However, he was right. Master is a rank given to those witches and wizards who have reached a certain pinnical in various areas of magic; charms, healing, transfiguration, potions, as well as a few others."

"Would one of those areas be alchemy?" Harry asked.

"Yes, though to most, the term alchemy is interchangeable with potions, though there are differences." The Sorting Hat explained.

"Differences?"

"Alchemy is about studying the magical properties of substances, and how these properties are altered by other magics and magical substances. Potions, on the other hand, is specifically about how magical substances interreact to each other, and their effects."

Harry thought on this for several moments.

"As I was saying; the rank is given by those who have already achieved such a level. Dumbledore, and the four heads of house, all hold a Master rank in their chosen field." The Sorting Hat continued.

"What about the others?"

"Unfortunately, none of the other fields have had a prominent enough figure, except for divination which is more of a talent than an actual skill, to really make people realise it deserves a Master rank.

"Except for the rank of Master, there is no real method of ranking ones magical skills. At one time, magic was like any other skill or profession; you would apprentice yourself to a master of the magical arts for a number of years, then you would become a journeyman or journeywoman, once your teacher had determined your skills were sufficient for you to be left to your own devices. Now, however, almost everyone holds that rank simply by graduating from a school." The Sorting Hat said. "Thus, it has fallen out of use."

"Didn't the letterhead on my Hogwarts letter say something about the Headmaster being a... Grand Sorcerer?" Harry asked.

"It is simply one of the numerous titles and positions that Dumbledore holds. It holds no actual meaning, insofar as his magical strength and skills are concerned anyway. It merely means that he has achieved a level of respect."

"Okay. Now, how about the other terms that muggles use for wizards and witches, like sorcerer, mage, enchanter. Do they all basically mean the same thing?"

"Basically." The Sorting Hat shrugged. "An enchanter is actually an old term for a charm specialist, but most of the rest of them are just different names for wizards, like calling a person a human being. Different words for the same thing."

Harry nodded in thought.

"What about in other countries? Do they use the same system was we do?"

"Same system?" The Sorting Hat asked.

"For casting spells, and ranking wizards."

"I'm not completely familiar with the traditions of the various other countries. I know that most of Europe uses the same spells as we do, as do the Americas and Australia. I believe that southern Asia and Africa have some differences from the way we do things, but you would have to do some research to find out."

Harry nodded to himself, making a mental note to see if the Hogwarts library had on the magical styles of other cultures.

The two continued speaking for a bit longer, until one of the paintings decided to speak up again.

"I hate to interupt, however, it is getting quite late, and I believe that it is time for dinner."

"I hadn't realised what time it was." The Sorting Hat said. "Thank you for reminding us, Armando."

The portrait simply nodded in acknowledgment.

"I regret taking up so much of your time." Harry stood from the chair. "And I want to thank you for inviting me."

"Not at all, not at all, Mr Potter. Please, come again. It has been fascinating speaking with you."

Harry picked up the Sorting Hat, setting it back in its traditional resting place, and was just about to step to the door and leave, when he suddenly remembered something.

"Would you happen to know someplace in the castle where I could work on some of my larger spells? Maybe do some physical training?" Harry asked.

"Why yes." The Sorting Hat said, and quickly gave Harry several directions to find the training rooms.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to imprint the instructions into his memory, then opened them with a smile.

"Thank you, thank you very much."

"Think nothing of it, Mr Potter." The Sorting Hat said with a smile. "Simply be sure to remember to come back, so that we may continue our conversations. Perhaps even bring your friend, Ms Granger with you."

Harry nodded at the Sorting Hat, mentally beratting himself for forgetting to ask some of his questions, and left the Headmaster's office.

As soon as he was certain that Harry had left, the Sorting Hat turned to an apparently empty chair.

"You may as well show yourself, Albus. I know you're there."

Dumbledore appeared in the previously empty chair, his eyes twinkling.

"Well, what do you think of the boy?" The Sorting Hat demanded.

The Headmaster smiled. "He is certainly an interesting young man. I shouldn't be surprised if he holds my position in a few decades."

"Than why not speak with him yourself?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Sometimes, it is more revealing to watch someone without them being aware of it."

"Not every day we have a self-trained occulmens in the school. So far, it appears as if he has developed only the most basic level of the skill, but he is further than most. He would only need experience against a legimens to begin to fully develop the skill." The Sorting Hat commented.

"Still, he has developed his skills sufficiently as to be aware when a legimens is trying to read him, which Severus is apparently not happy about.

"And, he believes that it is part of the preperations that all children are given prior to Hogwarts." Dumbledore shook his head in astonishment. "If they are the mere preperation, I shudder to imagine what he believes would be required to become a master."

- - -

It was finally time for Harry's first flying lesson, something that he could definitely look forward to. That isn't to say that Harry didn't look forward to any of his other classes, but rather that, here was something he wanted to learn for nothing but the sheer enjoyment of it.

Harry had often had dreams of flying, and he had several pages of ideas for means of flying in his spellbooks; from winged shoes, to flying spells, from spells to turn himself into some kind of bird, to spells to summon flying animals large enough to carry him. In several fantasy worlds, people had animal totems, which represented an essential component of their personality, and was usually the animal they found easiest to transform into, assuming that they had the ability to shapeshift of course. Harry had often thought that his would be a bird or other winged animal of some kind, possibly a raptor; a hawk, eagle or falcon, it really didn't matter to him.

_First, I've got to find out if I've got any talent for flying at all,_ Harry thought to himself. _For all I know, I could be rubbish at it._

All of the first year students from both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff gathered together on the Hogwarts grounds for their first practice session.

Madam Hooch (Harry had to work to keep from chuckling at the name) looked around at all of them.

_Merlin, I hope there isn't another one like the Longbottom boy._ She thought to herself.

She knew that there was always at least one who broke a limb from fear, such as Neville Longbottom, or from believing they were more skilled than they actually were (the name Draco Malfoy came to mind as a possible contender.)

_Hopefully, Longbottom's fall will cover this group as well. Honestly, falling off of a broom without any Bludgers trying to hit you?_ She thought to herself, shaking her head.

Madam Hooch quickly gave them her usual start of class instructions, having them stand in a line facing her with their brooms on the ground.

"Now, I want all of you to hold out your hand above the broom, and command it up." She said.

She prefered to not give much instruction at this point in the class, as it allowed her to see who she would have to work with more.

She was rather surprised when Harry's broom flew up into his hand so quickly, as if he had been a flyer all of his life.

_Just like his father. _Hooch thought to herself. _Of course, his father _had _been flying before. Living with muggles, I doubt if the child has flown on a broom since his parents died._

Hooch shook her head at herself. There had been many, far too many students that had lost their lives in the senseless war with the Death Eaters.

Just in case she had another Longbottom on her hands, Hooch gripped her wand tightly, ready to cast a charm to catch one of her students if needed. She quickly discovered she needed have worried. While many of them appeared to be getting on a broom for the first time, none of them showed the problems that led Longbottom to breaking his arm.

Harry was having the time of his life on his broom.

_I've _got _to get myself one of these next year!_ He told himself. The broom seemed almost like an extention of his will. There was some resistance of course, but no more so than if you were gesturing with an arm that had a heavy weight on it. It simply took more effort to make it move.

Harry was finding it extremely easy to perform the simple manuevers that Hooch was demonstrating to them. However, as many veterans of life could tell you, it's the simplest things which can be the most trouble.

"Madam Hooch." Hannah Abbot called out. "I don't think my broom is working right."

Hooch sighed. The school brooms had been bought around the time that these children's parents had been at Hogwarts, and even then, they had been a few years old. If treated properly, a broom could last for several decades, with little appreciable decay in performance. However, students brooms, even at as prestigious a school as Hogwarts, simply didn't get the attention they needed to be kept at their peak. Hooch tried, but she was only one witch.

While Hooch flew over to check on Hannah, another student decided to relax for a few moments. Unfortunately, it was at that very instant that Wayne Hopkins' hands slipped from the smooth broomshaft, and Wayne started to fall.

Everyone turned to towards the scream, only to see him start to fall from his broom. Hooch's hand dove into her robe, reaching for her wand, but knew in her heart that it wouldn't be in time.

Harry saw Wayne falling, and instantly pointed his broom towards the ground. It was a matter of a few seconds, but to Harry, it felt like hours.

_Come on!_ He silently urged the broom. _I have to reach him!_

Mere instants before impact, Harry caught a piece of Wayne's robe in his hand, and he pulled up on the broom with all of the strength in his left arm. Wayne's weight pulled against Harry's arm, nearly wrenching it from its socket. That instant, a loud tear was heard, and Wayne continued his fall to the ground, leaving a scrap of cloth in Harry's hand.

Fortunately for Wayne, while Harry had been unable to prevent a nasty fall, he _had_ been able to break it sufficiently, that all Wayne suffered was a large bruise.

"Mr Potter, come down here!" Hooch called out after giving Wayne a quick lookover.

Harry quickly obeyed, landing beside Hooch and Wayne.

After some quick instruction to the rest of the class, Hooch guided the pair to the Hospital Wing.

"More?" Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, asked, shaking her head.

"It would have been worse, if Mr Potter hadn't grabbed Mr Hopkins out of the air, and broke his fall." Hooch said.

Pomfrey quickly waved her wand over the two boys, muttering under her breath.

"A bad case of bruising, for Mr Hopkins, and a strained arm and shoulder for Mr Potter." She pronounced, and then sat both boys into a bed.

Hooch waited as Pomfrey treated both boys, grabbing Harry as soon as he was cleared to leave.

"That was some very fine flying, Mr Potter." Hooch said as she guided Harry back to the flying class. "As well as quick thinking."

Harry just shrugged. "I did what anyone else would have."

Hooch simply shook her head in disbelief.

"Be that as it may, five points for Ravenclaw, and I look forward to seeing you try out for the house team next year." She said. Then, she decided to pull out the big guns. "I know your father enjoyed his time playing Quidditch."

From the look on his face, Hooch knew that, next year, there would be another Potter playing Quidditch for Hogwarts.

---

Draco Malfoy, only child, and rightful heir, of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, sat in the Slytherin common room, brooding. At least that's what he prefered to call it. Many others would rather say he was sulking like a spoiled brat who hadn't gotten his way. What was he brooding about, one may ask? He was Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune, a wizard of two of the purest bloodlines in the wizarding world, and the person who would shortly become the master of the students of Slytherin house. The answer to the question would be two, very simple, words.

Harry Potter.

Even though it had been well over a week since his encounter with Potter, the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived had not only refused his generous offer of friendship, choosing to side with a _Mudblood_ of all things, but he had the unmitigated _'gall'_ to browbeat him! It was completely unacceptable!

_The nerve of that halfblood, that damn mutt._ Draco thought to himself. _Who does he think he is, disrespecting me? He should be honored that was willing to speak with him!_

Draco continued to rant to himself. His Hogwarts career had not been anything like he had planned back home. He had thought that as soon as he stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, people would flock to him, fighting for the chance to ally themselves with him. Once he reached the school, he would be placed into Slytherin house, as his family had been for generations, and would soon find himself as the undisputed leader among the students, as was proper for the son of one of the Dark Lord's most favored lieutenants, as well as one of the richest and most influential wizards in Britain. The teachers would heap praises upon him for his skills, and he would astound everyone with his flying skills so much, that they would give him a spot on the team.

Instead, he had been virtually ignored by everyone but Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, whom he had associated with for most of his life. When he attempted to correct this mistake, he found himself insulted by a halfblood who not only had delusions of his place in the magical world, but drove him out of the compartment with ease! The only thing that had gone right was being placed in Slytherin, though even that small joy was tainted when he found himself at the low end of the pecking order. Only those in his own years, and the children of his father's closest allies seemed to care about his name. Even the teachers seemed against him, as only Snape, the head of Slytherin praised his skills. However, to add insult to injury, Draco found that there _'was'_ a first year student who was being praised by the teachers, and thus was taking that which rightfully belonged to him!

Harry Potter.

And now, Draco had heard that Potter had rendered Madame Hooch, the Hogwarts flying instructor, speechless with his flying skills, the _first damn time he flew on a broom!_

Potter hadn't been given a spot on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, but Draco knew it was only a matter of time.

_How dare he! I should be the one getting praised!_ Draco ranted to himself. _I should be the one astounding everyone! I'm a Malfoy, I'm a pureblood! Potter's just an orphaned mutt with an ugly scar on his head!_

It was then that it happened. What had started out as a simple dislike on the part of Malfoy, began to bloom into an utter hatred of the wizard known as Harry Potter, and everything he stood for.

* * *

I apologise for taking so long on this chapter. I wasn't sure just how to write the first scene, the conversation with the Sorting Hat, is one of the hardest scenes I've ever had to plan out. I've probably had six or seven starts on it, and I'm still going to have to probably rewrite it to break up the info dump it's turned into.

For those of you wondering, yes, the animal totem is the source of the animagus form. Personally, I believe that canon Harry's animagus form would be a raptor of some kind, as they are some of the fastest, most agile fliers in the bird kingdom, plus they have the sharpest eyes, and what better for a natural Seeker like Harry? Raptors are the birds of prey, such as falcons, eagles, hawks, and owls. Vultures and kites are also included, but I don't think they're likely choices for canon-Harry's animagus form.

I know, I know, I did another info dump. I'm hoping (boy am I hoping) that I'll be able to get away without having to do one for the next few chapters, but we'll have to see.

Golem: A figure from Jewish legend, depicted as a clay giant animated by Qabbalistic ritual to protect and serve the Jewish community. It has since been expanded into meaning any inanimate object, usually a statue of some kind, that has been animated by some form of magic, and given some form of intelligence. Golems are often tough enough as to be indestructible, and strong enough to be invincible in battle. The only way to defeat them is to break the magic animating them. The animated chess pieces in wizarding chess would be a form of golem.

Wards: Any of a number of different types of magical defenses; from alarm spells, to shields. Wards are often used to prevent or block specific magical effects. ie the Anti-Apparation wards which protect Hogwarts.

I hope that my definition of the difference between potions and alchemy is understandable. If not, try it like this: potion makers are cooks who follow recipies, and can figure out ways to alter them to improve them, or even figure out entirely new ones. However, alchemists are scientists who figure out 'why' they work like they do, basically like food scientists or chemists. I wonder if Rowlings has a similar definition for it.

Apparently Rowlings has revealed that all Jinxes, Hexes, and Curses, are part of the dark arts. Jinxes are spells that merely irritate, while curses are spells that actually do harm, with hexes being the middle ground. Also, she defines Charms as those spells which change one or two properties of an object, while Transfiguration (obviously) changes one objects/lifeform into another.

I decided to add the use of mutt as an insulting term for halfbloods for a very simple reason. Purebloods are obsessed with magical ancestry. To them, mixing a so-called pureblood line with muggle ancestry would be, in and of itself, a crime. So, I decided that, if someone who was muggleborn was a _mudblood,_ than someone who was a halfblood would be a _mutt_.

One person wrote me to complain that I was saying Slytherins were evil with the _'poor quality'_ comment from the Hat. No, they are not all evil. I _'was'_ saying, however, that the present Slytherins are more ambitious than they are cunning, and have very little in the way of cunning. Look at Malfoy. If he was as cunning as we are to believe, than he would have been nicer to Harry, and kept his opinions to himself, better to gain his trust, and manipulate him. Closest we see to cunning from him is when he helped with the invasion of Hogwarts 6th year. If Voldemort were cunning, he would have made himself immortal, then pulled a Palpatine, and slowly aquired power through the Ministry, while keeping everyone thinking he was a nice guy. Only moving once he had people in positions of power _'everywhere'_ so that he could take out anyone (Dumbledore) who could oppose him.


	7. Chapter 75 Not Dead Yet!

**Harry Potter, the Arch-Magus**

**by**

**the DragonBard**

* * *

I do not own any of these characters, or any of the games, books, movies, skills, spells, items, or techniques mentioned in this story, except those specifically created by myself. All others are owned by their respective copywrite holders and/or creators. Especially any characters from the Harry Potter series, which is the property of J.K. Rowlings, or any parts of Dungeons & Dragons, which is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

* * *

**Chapter 7.5**

Harry sat in the Ravenclaw common room, thinking. One of the books he had read, _'Ghost,'_ by Piers Anthony, had a man with what was commonly called a photographic memory, though its true name was editic memory. The ability was described as being able to visualise things very well, to the point you could replicate in your head anything you ever saw. The hero of _'Ghost'_ also used it to make lists of things, and keep track of them, even playing a game of chess in his head. The concept had, in part, been the inspiration for Harry's alternate method behind performing the Will and the Word.

Harry had a plan which, while similar in concept, would be much more difficult, and complex in execution. While the hero had played games, and made lists in his head, Harry was going to take it several steps further. He was going to create a castle in there, his own sanctum sanctorum. A place he could go, at least in his head, if he needed to shut out everything and concentrate.

Also, if Harry did it right, he believed it might give him some protection against mental attacks. By sealing information and knowledge that the wanted to keep to himself within a safe, it would help prevent others from accessing it.

_'Probably not as good as what the Jedi would do,'_ Harry thought to himself. _'But, I don't have access to a centuries old master, who has millenia of information backing him up.'_

At the moment, Harry planned to start simple and expand. First, the defenses; a large castle wall surrounded by a thick fog that made it almost impossible to see. Within the walls lay a castle, surrounded by guardians... or at least it would be once Harry got around to imagining them. Harry wasn't sure what to choose just yet; monsters from fantasy, or simply soldiers, or maybe something from the movies, though at present the idea of using monsters was winning. The inside of the castle would be divided into a few rooms; the library, which would contain all of the knowledge he would need to be able to access, a vault, for those things he wanted to keep secret, a movie theater to replay his memories, and finally his secret place, which would represent his innermost being. A place he felt the most safe and at ease.

It was here that Harry encountered a problem... What to use as the core? It had to be a place where he felt confortable, a place which would be uniquely _'him.'_ Unfortunately, at present he couldn't think of anything. Living with the Dursleys hadn't exactly provided him with a wealth of environments to choose from.

_'Guess I'll leave it for another day.'_ Harry thought to himself.

Completing that last elements of his personal mindscape wasn't something that he could do without, but it also didn't need to be done right that second. After all, this was a school. It wasn't like he was really going to need a complete set of mental defenses just yet, was it?

With that put to the side for the moment, Harry decided to do some work he had been meaning to do for a while. Namely, organising his spells. First dividing them by School, then by College, and finally by levels of difficulty. Spheres he could do later.

Harry decided to plan it out; first going over each spell he had recorded, and deciding on which School it seemed to fit best, then noting it, and the College. He would then make a list of every transfiguration spell, and what College it would belong to, and how difficult it was to perform. He would do the same for the other Schools, and then go from there.

"Be easier if I had a computer with the right software." Harry muttered to himself with a sigh. "Just input the spell's name, College, School, and whatever other information I want to give it, and _presto,_ I can organise it any way I want. Then again, even if I _'did'_ have a computer, wouldn't work around this place... Wonder if it's the amount of magic in the area, or specific warding spells, or something else that does that? Something else to look into."

Harry glanced at what he had written so far. "I wonder if there's a spell that can do that, moving and altering stuff I've already written? Probably a touch too soon for me to be pulling it off just now, but something to look into." Harry made a mental note to ask Flitwick about wordprocessing and database spells next time he had charms. Maybe even a spell to expand the interior of a book; adding more pages as needed, while keeping the book from becoming awkwardly large and heavy. It would probably be a useful spell for editors and clerks.

Truthfully, as it was something that sounded very easy to visualise, Harry felt he could probably do it just by the Will and the Word, but the spell would likely let him do it without the need for constant concentration. _'I'll be so glad when I figure out how to cast self-sustaining spells using Will and the Word.'_

A quick check of the time later, and Harry quickly put his things away.

_'Almost time for Hermione's next lesson.'_ Harry thought to himself, rushing for the exit.

--

Harry shook his head as he watched his pseudo-apprentice, Hermione, leave the classroom. The girl wanted hard facts as to how and why what he taught her worked. Facts that he simply didn't have to give.

"She'd definitely be a wizard." Harry muttered to himself. "No way she'd be a sorceress."

In _'Dungeons & Dragons,'_ the RPG that Harry was most familiar with, mages had to choose one of two paths to follow; wizard or sorcerer. Wizards were the intellectuals, the scientists of magic. Their biggest strength was their intellect, which determined the power of their spells, as well as how many spells they could cast. Sorcerers, on the other hand, were those who were born magical. Relying on instinct, their magic drew strength less from their knowledge, and more from their force of will. To them, magic was less a science and more an art.

If anyone who was familiar with _'D&D,'_ and knew about his magic, had asked, Harry would have to say that he saw himself more as a sorcerer than a wizard, real world nomenclature notwithstanding. This seemed to place him in the minority of his house, which concentrated on the individuals intellect.

Someone more familiar with _'Mage: The Ascension,'_ would label Hermione as being most likely either a techno-mage, such as the Sons of Ether, or the Virtual Adepts, or maybe instead as a member of the Houses of Hermes, who used the hermetic magic system. In the _'Mage'_ system, Harry would probably label himself as an Orphan. Orphans were those who used magic, but didn't subscribe to any of the Traditions, prefering a more ecclectic view. To hermetics and techno-mages, magic was at least as much science as art, following very definite rules. Harry saw magic as being more an art, one he was still building skill in.

The Traditions were nine groups who joined together because of various similarities in magic system and worldview. They ranged in types from the shamans of the Dreamspeakers, to the computer programing Virtual Adepts. Each Tradition specialised in a different Sphere of the _'Mage'_ cosmology. The Virtual Adepts focused on Space aka Correspondence, the Dreamspeakers on Spirit, while the Houses of Hermes dealt with the Sphere of Force.

Harry sighed. He knew he should get back to organising his spell list, but he just wasn't in the mood. Harry felt the need to _'do'_ something.

He wandered around the castle for a bit. He told himself he was simply exploring the place, though he took little notice of his location. It wasn't until he found himself outdoors at the quidditch pitch that he realised where he was.

It was a perfect early autumn day. The air was clean and crisp, and there was a slight breeze. Harry had overheard a couple of the students on the house quidditch team calling it perfect flying weather.

"Too bad I don't have a broom, or a flying spell ready." He muttered to himself. "That'd be just the ticket."

It was then that it hit him.

Harry quickly ran back inside, dashing up to the Owlery, where he was quickly greeted by Hedwig. He offered her a conjured owl treat, which she quickly accepted.

"Hedwig, I've got a favor to ask of you."

Hedwig looked up at her master, questioningly.

"I need to study what you look like

* * *

This chapter is not complete. I'm still working on it, but more than one reviewer has suggested I put a partial chapter up so that my fans know that this fic **IS NOT DEAD!**

As this is only a partial chapter, I request that you not review, and wait until the full chapter is up. If you have comments, PM or e-mail me. I don't know when the chapter will be completed as I'm still stuck on the same single point; how to have Harry find out about Fluffy and the trap door without the fake duel with Draco (or anyone else) or without using something that feels too easy. However, I have no plans to stop writing it, as I know the pain of having one of your favorite fics just end without being completed.

To all the fans of this story, do not give up hope.


End file.
